Don't Forget This Joy

--dedicated to my own grandparents--

Maddie, eight years old

As long as carsickness on the curvaceous route hillside routes to Edees Glen didn’t get the better of eight-year old Maddie, she was mesmerized by the vibrant hues and farmland stretches of teh southern Appalachian Mountains. In her mind, she could run all over the hills and fields without growing bored or even tired. 

Pulling into a gravel driveway in front of a ranch-style dwelling where the grandparents started their retirement, other vehicles signifying everyone else in the family was already here for Thanksgiving. Maddie burst out the car and through the trellis arch that started the walkway, a simple piece of outdoor decor that Maddie thought was magical--especially in the spring when Grandma’s flower bushes climbed it. She stopped to laugh at grandma’s garden goose dressed in a scarecrow outfit and small, straw hat. 

“There’s Papa’s number one princess!” Her grandfather bellowed, greeting his oldest granddaughter at the door. 

“Papa!” Maddie put a running start in her hug for him, leaping the stoop onto the porch and into his arms. She blew through the house, greeting the rest of her adult family with a similar energy before meeting her only other cousin, three years younger than her, in the backyard.  

Her grandparents’ yard was nearly an acre in one of the hillside glens. The property boundaries were drawn naturally by the brush line behind the house and drives of gravel or dirt on either side, a stark contrast to the suburban fences where Maddie lived. The backside was set up for some entertaining with a small bonfire pit and picnic shelter, a hammock, a chest of children’s sports equipment and outdoor toys, a basketball court, a swing set, and a play house. Yet even with all the trappings, Maddie could run circles all day around the tall poplars that dotted the yard. This was one place where her energy and imagination easily thrived. Some days, she and her cousin reenacted fairy tales. Other times, they fancied themselves explorers in uncharted territory. This afternoon, they hunted Pokemon until they were called in to eat. 

After dinner and some cleaning, the grandparents took advantage of the younger bodies in the vicinity to manage some of the heavier lifting with the Christmas decorating. Maddie’s dad, uncles, and Papa moved the boxes and assembled a synthetic tree. Mom and the aunts either arranged the free-standing decorations or hung ornaments. Maddie mingled into the tree decorating until Mama called her. 

“Hey, Maddie! Push these boxes to the living room. I have a special job for you!” 

Maddie obliged, though Mama still hovered. “Easy around the corners, hun. The stuff’s breakable.” Her granddaughter slowed her pushing.

When all the boxes were relocated, the two of them opened up the Dickensville village collection; a set of ceramic miniature houses, buildings, and people embellished with winter and holiday accents. 

Maddie’s eyes lit up. How she adored this display! When she was younger, she’d frequently stare at it and linger by it. She made it one of her playthings, but one she treated with care.

“Do you want to help me set it up?” Mama asked, “I think you're big enough now.”

“I am?!” Maddie was thrilled. “Of course!” She jumped up and down. 

Mama revealed her process for putting up Dickensville. Of course, they needed some clear, flat space near an electric outlet--this year was going to be on a shelf rack where Mama normally kept family pictures. Rolls of white cotton served as the snow, white ground of the town and any hills were created with small effects underneath. 

Mama placed a few small books and boxes on the shelf and covered them with the snow. Maddie gasped in wonder at the transformation. Following suit, she picked out a ceramic cottage to place on top and a figure of two kids riding a sled on the side. In no time at all, Maddie’s creativity was in full force. Mama stepped back and watched her granddaughter form the town like a fish in water. 

When they were satisfied with the arrangements, the matriarch finagled the light cords behind the shelf and plugged them in. The village looked even better with the warm glow. The proud look on Maddie’s face showed she felt the same way. 

“Mom! Dad! Everybody! Come look! I helped with the Christmas Village!” She quickly turned and hurried to summon the other part of the house. Some of the family was on her heels seconds later. She stood next to the shelf display as if being judged for a school fair project. The verdict from her family was warm and admiring, adding to her pleasure. 

“You have a talent for this, Maddie!” Someone said. 

“You really do!” Mama reiterated. 

Maddie thanked the compliments and hugged her grandmother. “It was fun! Can I help again next year?”

“Of course!” 

Maddie, fourteen years old

The bright foliage contrasted the dingy, rainy sky as Maddie’s family drove to Edees Glen this year. She wanted to be anywhere else.  She drowned out the world listening to her music until they pulled onto the familiar gravel drive. The minute the car stopped, her mother voluntold her to help carry things in. 

Can I get out of the car first? Maddie kept her reaction to herself. Taking a food dish in hand, she started up the walk to her grandparents’ house. Papa was waiting at the door to receive them. 

“There’s my princess! Getting so big!” He beamed as she walked in. Uhh...that’s getting old...

“Hi, Papa!” She greeted instead, leaning a shoulder into his embrace since her hands were full. 

Cell service at her grandparents house was spotty to begin with, but her parents locked down the social media apps on her phone today too, as “encouragement” to interact with the family. She couldn’t check in with her friends who were in much cooler places right now. 

Going outside wasn’t an option either thanks to the yucky weather. Younger siblings and more cousins came along over the last few years and the hyper, annoying tots were running around in the house, driving her crazy. No one else seemed to care as long as they weren’t underfoot in the kitchen. Instead, her relatives peppered her with repetitive and sometimes awkward questions. She responded politely but deep down could hardly stand it. 

“How’s life as a big sister?” Awful...

“How’s school going? How are your grades?” For the fiftieth time, fine!

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I wish! I’ve been asked that like ten times already. The answer hasn’t changed. 

“Are you ready for high school?” I guess...

“Do you know what you’re going to do after high school?” I’m not even sure I know what I’m doing tomorrow...

After dinner, Maddie was voluntold to help move in the Christmas decorations.

“I appreciate the help, Maddie!” Mama thanked her as she lugged a storage container through the door. 

“No problem...” She replied, though deep down felt a bit slighted and awkward being the only female family member in the moving efforts. Her mom and the aunts either cleaned up or corralled the kids. She wouldn’t have wanted to be in that mix either though. 

Maddie placed her box near the edge of the room and used it as a seat. The tree was being assembled and the matriarchs were trying to bring the kids to order so they could help decorate it. The youngers either wanted to climb on the newly-arrived boxes or see what’s in them. They finally took the energy down a few notches after the littlest one threw a couple acrylic baubles like they came from a ball pit. 

Maddie was voluntold to get a broom. Maybe it was a mix of her own exhaustion and the endless frenetic invasion of her youngers, but this ordeal started to seem like a lot of work. Going through all the trouble--the cumbersome boxes, the required assembly, moving everything around just for things that will only sit out for over a month. And doing it all with a whirlwind of rugrats--was beyond her. 

While she cleaned her cousin’s mess across the room, the rest of them swarmed the box she was just sitting on. 

“What’s in here?” A childish voice wondered. They unboxed part of Dickensville.

 “Woah! Woah! Hey!” Maddie tried to get their attention. “Don’t touch! You’re too little!” She felt close to panicking. Her own hands were full and the seven feet between her and the kids started feeling much longer. With so much going on and happening so quickly, she felt like the only one who cared again. But thankfully Mama was close by to intervene.

“You can look, but don’t touch,” Mama said. “It’s Maddie’s.”

Oh, it’s mine? The statement surprised Maddie. So did her instinctive reaction the second they found the collection. She finished her cleaning tasks and approached Mama to make sure she heard correctly. 

“Of course!” Mama replied. “Your papa and I need to downsize. I know how much you love this set so I’d like you to have it after Christmas!” 

“Oh! Thank you!” Maddie was polite but contemplative. She looked down into the storage container, remembering when setting it up--and decorating for Christmas in general--was magical. But right now, she saw the worn, faded original boxing of the collectibles. Some pieces were older than her and the set was no longer in production as far as she could tell. But she knew saying what she was thinking wasn’t wise right now. 

 “Let’s go set it up here one more time!” Mama suggested. “It will get the kids out of your hair for a little bit too.” Mama winked and smiled. For the first time all day, Maddie started to feel seen. 

Maddie, thirty-four years old 

The family gathered on Edees Glen again, but this time in a churchyard cemetery laying Mama to rest. Her health never really bounced back completely after a heart surgery last year. Her grave plot was right next to Papa’s, who passed away due to health complications about three years before. 

Maddie looked around. The sky was blue despite the occasion. Treetops and grass were green, sure signs of spring. The hills seemed to roll on forever in all directions from her vantage, like eternity, where Mama was with Papa now. She missed him so much in her final years.  

As Maddie reflected, she thought back to that rainy Thanksgiving when she was a teenager, the one that felt like chaos to her. She realized that her grandparents were in their element like that. Her grandparents took a lot of pride in their family, seeing their grandchildren--that’s why she always called one of Papa’s Princesses-- and two great-grandchildren; one of them being her own eight-year-old daughter, Aria, holding her hand. The other was the young son of her second eldest cousin and her husband. She looked around at the crowd which was exclusively family. All the younger siblings and cousins are grown up. They’re much more tolerable now, she briefly mused. It felt like just yesterday she was letting their exuberance drive her up a wall.  Now, they were all in their late teens or twenties, starting college, careers, or special relationships. This had to have been at least a fraction of what her grandparents regularly felt. 

Maddie, her husband, and Aria stopped by her parents’ house on the way home after the service. She wanted to bring something home for Maddie. 

“My grandmother let me start decorating with this when I was your age,” Maddie explained to her daughter as they moved the dusty storage boxes into their own home, boxes that hadn’t moved beyond storage in eighteen years. She managed the set for another two years after inheriting it until she decided keeping up with it really was too much of a chore. She finally opened a box to reveal the Dickensville set. 

“Woah!” Maddie’s eyes glowed. 

“Would you like to help me set it up this Christmas?”

“Yeah!” Aria was ecstatic. Her eyes and enthusiasm took Maddie back to when she was a kid. Mama must’ve felt the same way. Tears came to the rim of her eyes. Don’t forget, baby girl! She wanted to add, hoping Aria wouldn’t be half the stinker she was down the road. No matter how old you get, please don’t forget this joy!