I haven’t been one for the holidays for QUITE some time. The cheery lights, baked goods and family togetherness usually harken a dark melancholy inside me and I’ve opted for bottles of Grey goose and Tarantino movies over caroling and gifts.
I had someone ask me, completely dumbfounded, how this was a thing. “How could ANYONE not LOOOOVE Christmas,” she asked me from behind her green and red sweater, Old navy hat and gloves, innocent eyes of a woman who had clearly never experienced emotional pain so deep it takes years of Christmases to care again.
I don’t want to get in the specifics of WHY Christmas went awry for me, so many years ago. I’ll just say that as I grew up my Christmases did too. There were less grandparents and extended families, less hours of laughter and gifts, and eventually (for me) more sadness in all the changes that are the price of getting older.
My favorite Christmas was spent in a bar, getting PLASTERED until December 26th with my friends little sister. Discussing everything from shared history to religion. Three days later I found out I was pregnant.
Having Shiner has given me a renewed sense of what Christmas is supposed to be about. Since his Dad isn’t huge on the holiday either and less willing to change, I have taken the Christmas reigns to ensure that Shine’s childhood holidays are just as magical and wondrous as mine once were. As they should be.
Cookies and cakes, Nat King Cole, presents and candles and even–a big, white Christmas tree with tons of ornaments he loves to throw off. He’s small now, and won’t remember these first few years. But as he grows so do I-and i look forward to all of the amazing winter memories we’ll make as a family. If he grows up to be jaded about this time of year, I will understand, but it won’t be on my watch.