Christmas Cry

I had my annual Christmas-cry, last night.  

Does anyone else suffer from such things? lol 

Mostly it’s sentimentality; all the lights and the snow and kids being excited for school to be done, and all the plans to put our nice clothes on for.  It’s overwhelming, in a good way!  But also, my heart feels the need to take a moment to mourn my childhood.  Which sounds so dumb, because mourning is associated with sad things, and my childhood was pretty glorious..especially Christmas.  But every Christmas, I get far too sad about those Christmases being over.

I think a chunk of me died, the day I came to terms with Santa not being real.  I was in Grade 8, I held on to that magic for dear life!  And there was no Instagram, and no political correctness being discussed on the playground, so until I was basically a teenager, I had no reason not to believe.  I appreciated getting to be part of making the magic for my younger siblings, and it’s when I started to understand that Christmas magic and cheer is about more then Santa and presents.. but it’s never been the same.  

Nothing feels the same as the hour my little brother and sister would sit in my bed, up too early on Christmas morning, while I read the same Christmas book over and over, until we were finally allowed to wake our parents up.  I haven’t done many drugs, lol but what I have done, never came close to that utter anticipation.  

And we were all SO in love.  It’s less about the fact that my family has since become a ‘broken’ one, and more about how much we all just loved on each other during the Christmas holidays.  We did a great job fighting like all siblings did, but never at Christmas time.  And especially not Christmas Day!  We’d stay in our jammies, sharing our Disney figurines, or figuring out my brother’s new Nintendo.  We’d watch new movies and share each other’s stocking-treats, before eventually getting dressed for dinner.  

We have the most wonderful collection of home movies, so sometimes I wonder if my memories are actual memories, or just remembering what I’ve watched.. but not Christmas.  Those smells, and those albums my parents played every year, and those feelings, those are seared into me.  And I fucking miss it.  

Blah, blah, blah!  I have my own family now, and that DOES mean that childish magic starts all over again.. though, now I’m worrying that Christmas will never be AS magical for my kid, because he doesn’t have someone to share Disney figures, or Nintendo with..

On the way home from the movies, the gps took me the most bizarre way, and while panicking about probably being lost, and dying in a ditch, I was suddenly on a street where every house was COVERED in lights.  I had Amy Grant’s Christmas album on (I don’t know why Tennessee Christmas means so much to me, lol I am the opposite of a Southern girl, but it was always on in the house), and all the tears came out!  All the way home!  But then I opened the door and the Christmas tree was on, both my guys were fast asleep together, and all was ok, again.

And now we move on, lol.  And eat too much dessert!  And just try to sleep on the 24th, even though we’re so freaking excited because we know our kids are so freaking excited!  And we can live vicariously through their excitement.. and take some pleasure in knowing that we’re the ones creating so much of the magic (just like our parents did)!