Friday, January 3, 2025

Another Tender Tennessee Christmas

One Saturday in early December of 2016, we drove to the village of Leipers Fork, about 25 miles southwest of Nashville, to take in the annual Christmas parade. It is a grand occasion for this little hamlet: everyone from the local middle school band to the septic truck makes an appearance. We even saw Jesus, although he was wearing flip-flops and chewing on a toothpick, so I have my doubts. But the thought was there.

The drive to Leipers Fork from Nashville is marked by rolling hills and pastures, and it is quite beautiful. And it's funny how strongly I feel my Tennessee roots in places like this. For every moment of that drive, I felt like I had gone back in time to a place that, although I had never visited it, was somehow familiar to me. It was wonderful. The parade was a community event, and afterwards, we dropped in to a holiday party at the gorgeous home of friends who live just outside town.

So, here's the thing. When I moved away from home to attend college in Chicago, my first visit back to Memphis was at Christmas of my freshman year. I had only been gone a few months, but it felt like forever. I had made many friends in Chicago, but it was so good to be home. My family, school and church friends welcomed me with open arms, and rarely have I felt so loved. We all have milestones in our lives, and that was one of mine.

When I was young, I wanted to explore a little more of the country, and the ensuing years afforded me that privilege. I eventually made my home in Chicago, and then in Atlanta, but every other Thanksgiving, we would make the drive back up to west Tennessee to see my mom and stepfather at their farm house just outside Jackson. Often, we would listen to Alabama's Christmas album, and when the song "Tennessee Christmas" started, I usually found myself more than a bit misty-eyed. (The opening line of the song's chorus is the title of this post.)

Christmas growing up in west Tennessee started with opening presents at home in Memphis, then making the roughly two hour drive to Aunt Ida's house, where we might see snow. It was wood fires, tables full of delectable food, stories told at the dinner table and always the laughter...lots of laughter. My dad didn't have much time off work, but he was always home at Christmas, so we were guaranteed that time as a family. My dad's relatives lived in Memphis and the surrounding area, so other holidays we spent with them, but Christmas night always ended in the small town of Trenton, surrounded by "my mom's folks": aunts, uncles, and cousins.

So you can probably guess how I felt in Leipers Fork. I smelled the wood smoke, I heard that Tennessee accent (it's not quite the same as the one in Georgia), ate delicious food and laughed with abandon. I felt the warmth of being surrounded by friends old and new. Even though I'd never been to this town, I was back home. A part of me will always belong to Tennessee.