#12:|FRIENDSHIP|MEDIUM|ENGAGEMENT|LOVE|LETTERS|

1111 and Christmas Stories

Letter #12 Reply from Love back to James Edward Young

Where grand gestures are reserved for romantic relationships, one man decided to break the mold and take his friendship to the next level.

On bended knee, Medium author James Edward Young proposed a bond of friendship. To seal this bond, we would write to each other on this platform.

I hope you can stop by and spend some time reading our letters. I am not quite sure if our life stories are your cup of tea; however, I am sure you will bust out a giggle, fall to the floor and laugh out loud, fart, pee on yourself, have a stomach ache from laughing or, like me, often cry with tears of joy.

Who knows?

Maybe, just maybe, the world will witness more friendship proposals on bended knee-and a whole lot of love.

A link will be provided below for all other past letters between James and Love.

We hope you enjoy this unique journey!

Letter #12

December 13, 2023

Dear James,

Your letter reminds me of the series, The Wonder Years. The series made its debut in 1988 and was set in the 1960s and 1970s. I loved every minute of the show. Did you know that the “Princess Bride" star Fred Savage plays Kevin, the grandson in the very beginning of the movie?

But you started with a letter about Christmas!!! Why!!!???!!!

Yes, I am trying to elude the subject about the picture above. Yes, that is me and my sister. Ya ya ya ya….I hated Christmas, did I say I hated Christmas! The minute it hits December 1st, I came undone. Why? Because I would start weeknight and weekends practicing and preparing, for what???

To present at my family’s freakin Christmas party. Every freaknut year! James!

Weeknights and weekends with friends…poof. Gone. For an entire month.

So this is what happened this year. I was about twelve; we normally have to go to midnight mass every December 24th. On that eve of Christmas, my wonderful family has this big production of an all-night party. From dinner to the wee hours of the morning. Yes, we had these parties all through freakin New Year's, man!!! I think it wasn’t that bad back when we were younger... but oh it felt like forever when I was twelve.

So, here I am with my sister. This whole party lasts from dinner to the wee hours in the morning because everyone stays for the parade at midnight to church. We would have to walk the mile and a half to church for this midnight mass. Then after midnight mass, ok…we have a whole program—singing, dancing, drama, you name it. I even remember my dad having a special guest that sounded exactly like Karen Carpenter!!!

Back to the picture above. Guests start to arrive at dinner, ok? We have a minimum of 100 guests. Everyone has to stay awake the entire night, so when I was twelve years old, my mom always yelled at me if I was standing by the bar. She had this awesome fruit punch bowl with so many cherries in it. She had a bowl of olives and lemons too. Every time I came around, I would try to sneak a cherry or olives in my mouth. I would get an ass wooping if I was caught even trying.

This year, I had a new idea. I’m twelve, and I feel freakin rebelious. I checked around; no one was looking. It’s about 800 p.m. Dinner’s done; everyone is dancing; they were all outside the garden yacking.

I was alone by the bar; this time, I will snag one of those red plastic cups and fill them with the cherries and the juice. I took the red cup, filled it with cherries using a fork, then, with the big scoop, took two scoops of the juice and went under the table. No one saw me since the table had the table cover all the way around it. I hid there, savored every cherry one by one, and drank the juice. It took me about 15 minutes. I went again about two more times. I remembered how accomplished I felt and was so proud of myself.

So here comes the time to perform: 1100 p.m. The announcer starts to introduce the hula song and introduce my parents and then my sister, and then a loud OMG!!!! happens. My mother starts yelling! “Where is Genevieve? Find her! She is going to get it this time,” she adds.

HAHAHAHA. They found me. OMG! Under the table, out cold. HAHAHA!!! I was drinking spiked punch! HAHAHA!!! So, they woke me up, gave me black coffee and made me dance, that’s why I look like a dodo bird dancing!!! A-doy!!! Crazy me was so drunk, I do not remember dancing that night or my petute getting wooped. You see my sister’s face on the right, she was so distraught. I, on the other hand, drunk at twelve!

Yup, that happened every year after that too!!! They had to put security by the bar after I got caught twice.

I think this story is as bad as your starting a city fire with Christmas trees!!!That’s a fun story too, I have comments below.

James, back to your letter, you wrote:

I want to step back and be objective. I like the name Genevieve. I’ve never known a Genevieve. You are the first. Saying your name sounds like a leaf breaking loose from its branch and gracefully floating to earth. ”Gen” is the leaf breaking loose, and “evieve”, being softer, is like the leaf taking it’s time floating down. I’m a poet, what can I say ?

James, you are a poet! Look at how you just made my plain ol’ name sound so beautiful. I love the analogy.

If my mom were still alive, she would agree with you in a way, as she would always say that my head is stuck in the clouds and forever floating in them. HAHAHA, I have always been in some other reality, perhaps... Who knows why she would say that to me?

You also wrote:

You think of the most interesting projects for us to write about. I like the way you are guiding me. I like the way you inspire me. Yes I’d love to tell you about some of the best Christmases that I’ve ever had.

James, I am glad we have a lot of stories to share here. Imagine we are both by a campfire, and just telling each other stories. We can start with the Christmas ones. Glad you are enjoying our writing journey.

Then you also wrote:

My first story is more about my Dad than me. Dad dressed up as Santa Claus to a whole bunch of kids. I think I was four years old. Dad looked really good as Santa Claus. His outfit was great and when he smiled, his whole whole face lit up and he had really pretty bright blue eyes that sparkled. What a beautiful memory I have of my Dad. I watched all the kids climb up on his lap and say what they wanted for Christmas. Then it got to be my turn to climb up on Santa’s lap and when he talked to me, I begin to think there’s something familiar about Santa’s voice. Then I was sure of it. I said loudly,” hey, you’re not Santa Claus. You are my Dad.” He pretended to be indignant and declared that “Well I am so Santa Claus”, but the more he talked, the more convinced I was that he was my Dad and he was pulling a scam on me. I’m pretty sure I quickly forgave Dad, because I got “stuff” and my attention was quickly diverted by candy.

Too funny! When you find a picture of your dad as Santa, it would be a wild picture to share here. Would love to see one. What joyful memories you had for Christmas!

Don’t feel too bad, I did not know that Santa who put the gifts under the tree, were my parents until I was twelve! Yup, I think my innocence left me when I was twelve.

Then you shared this hilarious story with you and your buddies.

When I was 12, Christmas was magic. I still remember that wonderful “Christmasy feeling”. Playing with friends was different. We all had an agenda. I felt like Ralphie in the movie A Christmas Story. If you’ve never watched a Christmas story, you owe it to yourself because it’s the warmest happiest Christmas comedy ever made. It so captured what it was like for me when I was 10. I remember my friend Bill got a new Schwinn bike with springs on the front forks. I think it had a light and a horn too. I got a chemistry set and that was a big mistake.The adults around me should have known. They should have known, but they didn’t . I have a knack for getting into trouble and a chemistry set only got me started. I played with all the chemicals in my chemistry set but I knew things, things I should not know. I always was mixing this and that together just to see what would happen. Did you know that if you burned sulfur and charcoal and sugar together, it burns beautiful blue ? We had a swimming pool and Dad would put chemicals in it to keep it clean. I liked those chemicals because they were dangerous. Chlorine and acid is deadly, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I even had a cyanide jar for killing bugs for my collection. OMG, I’m glad I didn’t pour acid on that . We had a tool room where all kinds of chemicals were stored. Chemicals necessary to run a household. Muriatic acid, black flag concentrated pesticide syrup, rat poison grain saturated with Paris green(poison), garden sulfur and gasoline. Dad had a shotgun, so naturally I opened up the shells and put gunpowder into the mixture. What kid wouldn’t. When you’re a kid and they just let you out of school for Christmas you can do all sorts of things you should not do. You just need to remember to keep your mouth shut and don’t get cought. Getting cought for some stupid little kid crime is bad just before Christmas . I repeat, just don’t get caught. I would get into the tool room and mix up my Devils cocktail . I was on Christmas break when I showed all my friends what I made . We would go around and pour stuff like that on anthills just to see what would happen. I always tried to impress my friends which often got me in trouble.( That very same tendency continues to this day) We never got hurt playing with dad’s chemicals. We never got hurt playing with Dad’s chemicals. We never got hu………oh. Well, I’m still standing ain’t I, so ha ha …

Haha, I bet you never got hurt. All that karma from killing ants, OMG! How many generations of ants did you wipe out, James?

I used to catch tadpoles! Keep them in the house aquarium until they become frogs, and then I would be wooped again for having the tadpoles in the aquarium eating the expensive saltwater fish in our aquarium. Yup, wooped ars!!!

And we used to play with a bamboo cannon, called Lantaka, picture below:

We would normally use kerosene, they are very loud firecrackers!!!

You wrote:

I remember buying a pooh-pooh cushion that would make farting noises. Christmas Eve was coming and everybody was coming to our house. I looked forward, through the pine smells and Christmas lights and hard candies, to someone sitting on “the chair” that had the poo poo cushion. My sister Pat sat on it and outrageous noises poured forth. I rolled in hysterics on the floor…

You are a prankster too then. Wow! I remember that too. My cousins used to bring this to school and the teacher would sit on the cushion! They got in so much trouble with the principal.

Then the story of burning Christmas trees:

After Christmas each year, when people were done with their trees, we drug as many trees as we could find into a vacant lot. We had lots of vacant lots. We would make a fort or two and have wars by heaving weeds torn out of the ground that still had a big wet dirt clod on the end. What a great grenade to hit your friend in the head with. No damage was done because kids are basically brain dead anyway . by the time we were battle weary, we lit our forts on fire. Watching 50 dry Christmas trees burn is truly impressive. I would venture a guess that the flames rose to about 100 feet. Try that now and they will take you to “juvie”. Don’t ask me about “juvie”. LOL.

I don’t know James, lol. What a bonfire!

James, you ended your letter with:

I want to end this like this. Just, thank you Love for being my friend. I love everybody in my world more than I can say. But, somehow I really needed more. I really needed this friendship, Love. Without sounding corney, I don’t have a ton of friends and only a select few are “forever friends” . I hope you will be my “forever friend” forever. I hope you and your guy have a Christmas equalling how great I feel at this moment . I got my best girl, Joan and I got her fooled into loving me . Merry Christmas Love. Yes, that’s what I said……………… Merry Christmas.

Your letter was such a joy to read, James. Fun times, man! I wish we could do them all over again, knowing what we know now!!!

Thank you for offering friendship, James. It is very much cherished and my heart sings with laughter and joy whenever I think about your letters.

Oh, wait…you wanted to know about 1111.

I hope you are not floored by my explanation.

Shortly after my son passed away, I started waking up at 11:11 or 1:11, if you google and ask for the meaning of these consecutive numbers, they are signs, often called angel signs. Normally, there are three consecutive numbers. Each person receives other consecutive numbers, 333, or 555, or 1111 as well.

When my husband passed away in 2020, he told me he would send me 1111 signs, so I think these numbers are from our loved ones letting us know that they are around and always with you.

Merry Christmas to you and your wife, Joan. Hug her for me.

I also last saw my eighteen-year-old, Justin, on Christmas Day, December 25, 2005. That was the last time I saw him before he passed away on January 5, 2006. It’s not a good season for me. I love this letter, James.

I shall celebrate the season with a whole lot of laughter now with your letters.

Love,

Genevieve

Letter #11 from James Edward Young to Love:

Other previous letters:

Check out this publication. A special mention goes to the only publication that has given me full, unequivocal support,Francisco Iglesias, publication, Inside the Mind of a Writer.