My Mom and Dad had a house built when they got married. That house, where they still live by the way, has no fireplace. My Mom didn't want to clean soot and deal with ash, so she skipped on the fireplace option. (Now that I'm older, I believe this was a form of child abuse, but that's another blog.)
Since it's common knowledge that Santa comes down the chimney, every year, we had to build a cardboard fireplace to facilitate Santa's entrance. I have no idea where one buys a cardboard fireplace (maybe Sears and Roebuck). But, we had one. We'd pull it out of it's cardboard box, and we'd build it, following the directions carefully. We hung the stockings on the chimney with care, with a stick pin. The cardboard fireplace had red brick, white mortar with a black shelf on top. It stood about 4' tall and was 3 or 4 foot wide. In it were orange paper flames with an orange light bulb behind to similate a nice cozy fire. A little metal spinner sat on top of the orange bulb and as the heat was generated, the spinner spun and the flames appeared to flicker.
I shared this story with David and his mother earlier in the month and they found it entertaining. David knew that it was a special memory.
Last week, I paid a visit to David's house and he held his hands over my eyes and led me to his living room. When he let me look and see, I saw a brand new cardboard fireplace! Ahhhh! He said it is mine to keep. See the picture? That's my fireplace!
And with that, new memories are being made with old memories.
Merry Christmas to you and yours.