Memories on Paper

My kids (age 3 and 2) are toilet papering the house whilst I write this post, so I'll get to the point (quickly).

During the holiday season when I was a little girl, my grandfather took me to see my first theater performance: Babes in Toyland. I'll always remember how special I felt to be all dressed up and fancy, going on a "date" with Granddad. The years following he took me to see The Christmas Carol; both were performed at the Horton Plaza theater (the Lyceum). These annual excursions with Granddad always included a trip to a bookstore (our favorite was Wahrenbrock's Book House, a 3-story used bookstore), and dinner downtown. (I have vague memories of eating turtle soup at the Grant Hotel, sharing roasted chestnuts with Granddad on a sidewalk, and entering the Panda Inn as if it were a 5-star restaurant.)

Nostalgic holiday memories aside, I'm currently reading this book to my children at bedtime:

Inside, there's an inscription from my Granddad:

"For Jennifer--When you were seven and we went to see 'the Christmas Carol;' Remember? Granddad...Dec 22, 1986"

My grandmother recently gave me some of Granddad's books (he passed away 6 years ago), and one of them was a copy of Dicken's The Christmas Carol.

It had been a gift from his grandchildren:

There's an inscription from my brother and my father, but to be honest, it was mine that made me smile: "Granddad, I remember when you took me to see 'A Christmas Carol' at Horton Plaza's theatre. It's a memory I'll always treasure come the holidays. It's one of the many reminders of wonderful things you have introduced me to and taught me to appreciate. Love, Jennifer...Christmas '97"

In Memory of:

Charles

(my Granddad)

P.S. That took the length of 2 1/2 rolls of toilet paper to write.