This is a reblog of Andrew Swan sharing his Christmas memories.
© Andrew Swan
Growing up in my house, Christmas was nothing if not consistent. My parents bought a bungalow in Silver Heights when I was a baby, and I lived there until I moved out after graduating from law school. Even when I was living in an apartment downtown, I would still stay over on Christmas Eve.
Consistent still meant we had to work around my dad’s schedule. When I was young, he still worked rotating shifts in his job as a mechanic for Air Canada – people want to travel for the holidays, and somebody has to get the planes ready – which meant he might have to work in the day, in the evening, or even the “graveyard” shift from midnight until 8 a.m.
It was consistent, which included most of the work falling on the shoulders of my mom. While my dad put up the Christmas lights…
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