The years we didn’t travel it was customary for us to gather and celebrate Christmas with my father’s side of the family. The celebration began Christmas Eve right after mom and dad’s work. My father’s side of the family was large in number. Nine siblings, spouses, children filled aunt Pina and Jack’s modest home. Christmas day we also celebrated grandma’s (Ma as she was affectionately called) birthday. Natala was her name. It means Christmas in Italian. Her nickname was Vita. My Noni (my grandmother on my mother’s side) was once a neighbor of Ma’s on Milton street in Detroit, called her Vita, as did most of her friends and acquaintances. She was an adopted child, and the actual date of her birth was uncertain. However, it was wonderful to honor her on that special day. It made Christmas even more joyous.
The Guastella family not only met Christmas Eve, but Christmas day brought us all back to complete the Italian holiday tradition. We all would gather in the basement (many Italians constructed kitchens in their basements- the kitchen on the main level was for everyday use) as this would be where dinner was prepared and served. We greeted each other with hugs and kisses. I was instructed to pay my respects to all my aunts and uncles and to give a special embrace to Grandma (Ma). Aunt Pina, our hostess, usually baked a Ham. The ladies laughed, giggled, teased one another. and sometimes danced with each other as they prepared the feast.! Italian music played in the background (The Gaylords) as well as popular christmas songs. The whole atmosphere was joyous, and it was at this time that I really felt Italian. I took it all in as if it was all a movie being played before me.
The ladies were assigned to prepare other dishes. Pounds of pasta and homemade tomato sauce (I know, redundant to even mention), meatballs, sausage (home made by uncle Jerry), ham, baked chicken, potatoes, and salads were the main dishes to pass. Loaves of homemade Italian bread were placed on the tables. Many of them would begin the evening with a highball. Wine and beer and a wide assortment of Faygo pop would be for the kids. I must admit, it was the gelatin dishes that caught this young boy’s attention. It was fascinating to see so many concoctions of Jell-O, and these seemed even to a youngster like me, to be an oddity- an American influence. The quivering molds were mixtures in complementary colors combining thinly sliced carrots sticks, or grapes, or fruit cocktail, and one masterpiece of layers of flavored Jell-O separated by a thin layer of whipped marshmallows or sour cream. The desserts were numerous, but of course, the cakes, canollis, and vast assortments of Italian cookies were set aside for the late evening coffee.
For us kids, the whole house was open for play. I always looked forward to seeing my cousins. I hear I got a little rough one year when I popped my cousin Kathy in the nose. I don’t remember that at all and this is so out of character- I was an angel. At a point in the evening, after the pleasantries and casual conversation the men would squeeze themselves around the upstairs kitchen table to play poker- 25/50 cent bets- high stakes. I don’t recall much laughter at the table- they appeared to take the game seriously. Individual motives aside, the desire to win was of course to pocket some change, but I think it was to have bragging rights. This room was not for kids, even so, I was fascinated with the whole atmosphere of smoke, booze and the suspense of each turned card. I wanted to learn the game. My father sat on the sidelines and watched, as he wasn’t much of a gambler. He didn’t drink or smoke either. This was not his game. He, to satisfy his wife and guests, played Canasta and Pinochle on occasion. My mother would usually give him hell for his limited skill at the game. My dad preferred to joke around and talk about getting a good deal on a used car.
My uncles Joe (would break into opera at any given moment)
and uncle Jerry who made fantastic Italian sausage, circa 1060's
and uncle Jerry who made fantastic Italian sausage, circa 1060's
Most of my cousins would receive their gifts that evening, Christmas Eve. Some of my cousins would attend midnight mass and then return to the party as it went well into the morning. This also meant that they could eat breakfast the next morning, but for the rest of us we abstained until we received Holy Communion. The Mass reminded us of what the true meaning of Christmas- the birth of our Savior. The church was packed and sometimes standing room only. The smell of smoke, booze and garlic permeated the pews. Mass was performed in Latin. Christmas hymns were performed and given the inebriated state of the parishioners it all sounded like Latin.
It was my family’s tradition to wait for Christmas morning to open our gifts. I didn’t receive many toys for Christmas. Not that we were poor, we just didn’t put much emphasis on gifts. Can’t remember if my parents exchanged gifts. One year I convinced my father to let me open gifts on the eve, and what a disappointment it was for me. That year Santa gave me a cork gun and a football. The gun did come in handy for shooting the cowboys and Indians I set up on the couch and in the metal fort Apache. I also remember receiving a watch (which was so cool) and a bible of my very own (not that I would read it). Any clothes I got were low on my list.
Nothing could top the electric football game I received one Christmas. The game came with two teams (red and yellow plastic players). I ordered more players so I could form individual teams. I researched the players and their numbers and painted the teams as authentically as I could. I designed one-hour games (four- fifteen minute quarters) and established rules of order so as to make the games as fair and realistic as possible. I formed a league and recorded player stats- including the rushing, passing yards as well as tackles. To simulate the weather conditions I dusted the game board with baking powder to represent snow. Rainy conditions? Come on, I wasn’t an idiot- it was an “Electric” Football game.
While I didn’t receive many toys for Christmas, the ones I did receive gave me many hours and sometimes years of entertainment.
Watching Dickens “Christmas Carol” was and still is a must see. The many television specials helped to make the season so special. For Christmas was of mystery, wonderment, tradition, and was clearly designed for the children. As I reflect on those times, I realize how foundational they were to my youth, and how I truly miss the loved ones who are no longer here. As a friend said, “they are still here with us- they are in our spirits.”