“Time, repetition, and emotion all contribute to whether we remember information or an event, and the basic rule is that events and information with significance are remembered.”

Natalie C Tronson, Ph.D., Psychology Today

I’ve had decades of holiday celebrations, and most have been good times, but the ones I remember most had setbacks significant enough to trigger emotional reactions.

For instance, the first childhood Christmas that comes to mind is the one when I was about seven years old. The memory isn’t focused on receiving my much-wanted Cinderella doll, but rather on the fact that I was recovering from chicken pox and was pale and lethargic on the day.

I remember my nine-year-old New Year’s Day because my mother gave birth to my brother, and with only a vague understanding of the birth process, I felt a little afraid for her. I think my Dad understood because he took me to the hospital to visit Mom and baby and, afterward, treated me to a movie at a local theater. It was showing White Christmas.

One adult memory that sticks out happened during the week between Christmas and New Year’s when I was in my late twenties. My husband and I drove to the Sugarloaf ski resort in Maine, where I fell and sprained my knee on the slopes one day. By evening, I was hobbling, so we went to a local emergency room, where they gave me some pain meds and told me to stay off the leg. The vacation ended and we went home. Soon after, I discovered I was pregnant, and I worried about the pills affecting my baby. Thankfully, she turned out fine.

My Christmas two years later is remembered for the concerns I had about my newborn son who had developed a nasty skin rash. I was also feeling run down from the birth, dealing with both a baby and a toddler, and pushing myself to make the holiday perfect for the four of us.

I spent three Christmas holidays living in Italy, but two stand out. One year, our Italian neighbor Gennaro invited us to join his family for the Feast of Seven Fishes. He had a brother who was a fisherman who would provide fresh-caught seafood. We enjoyed ourselves and the food was delicious. However, next morning we were sick as dogs.

Another year, we bought a real Christmas tree. (In hindsight, not a great idea in the warm climate of Southern Italy.) We celebrated the holiday at home then drove north to the Dolomites to spend the week skiing in Val Gardena. The big surprise when we returned home for New Year’s was to find that our evergreen had completely shed. We found only bare branches surrounded by a pile of green needles on the tile floor.

We spent several Christmases in Germany, but one holiday vacation stands out in my memory. It was another ski trip, this time to Val d’Isere, France. Since we would be there for Christmas Eve, we bought a live tabletop evergreen on the way up the mountain and set it up on a chair in our rental. The week was fun until I visited a hot tub après ski and picked up some kind of germ. My husband and the kids enjoyed a few more days skiing, but I was sick in bed with only our little tree for company.

Back in the States, I remember a New Year’s Eve ski trip to Burke Mountain in Vermont, where rain ruined the conditions. On the drive home, we hit black ice in New Hampshire, and the car did a 360 twice before stopping, leaving the four of us shaken but unhurt. That night, we celebrated our survival at a party with friends.

I also remember inviting good friends to our Maine home the week before Christmas one year. They were having holiday events downtown, so we left our two dogs home and went out. Upon our return, a trail of torn wrappings greeted us. I had left a gift box of gingerbread men under the tree, which the dogs sniffed out and devoured.

 One holiday seared into my brain in recent years was when my husband had a hemorrhagic stroke and ended up in intensive care for ten days. On Christmas Eve, he requested us to bring a plate of pierogi, part of the traditional Polish Wigilia meal, for his dinner. We complied, but he was too sick to eat it. We also brought him a stocking with small gifts, which he saved for another day. The good news was that he started the new year in much better shape.

I may seem like a Debbie Downer for focusing on the adverse events, but I’m truly grateful that my holidays through the years were usually joyous. However, when things are usual they often blend together, and the unusual, especially if they are unpleasant or traumatic, stand out.