Showing posts from December, 2016

Aunt Yaya

Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. As a kid growing up in the rolling hills of southeast Tennessee, Christmas was filled with family, good food, caroling, and lots of presents. We were spoiled. On one side of the family, there were only two grandchildren: me and my sister. Every year on Christmas Eve, the tradition was to go to my mom's parent's house "in town." We were showered with gifts, an amazing spread of goodies, and I couldn't get enough of the multicolored lights on the tree, reflecting off the blue crushed velvet couches in my Nanny's formal living room. She always made me my very own sweet potato casserole in a corningware dish that was loaded with extra marshmallows. If we didn't get the presents we asked for at their house, we knew we still had two more chances since gifts would be opened the next morning at home and the next night at the other grandparents.' On the other side of the family, there were seven grandchildre