Especially this year
it’s Christmas Eve and I just don’t feel it…
When I was a child, this day was filled with anticipation and tradition. Time to light the last candle of the advent wreath that was always on the coffee table. The last day of being good so Santa would bring presents. Always Christmas music playing either on the radio or record player. Getting a flashlight ready and hidden so I could sneak downstairs in the middle of the night to see what was under the tree (yes, I was that child). Christmas Eve candlelight service always, then home to put cookies and milk on a plate and try our hardest to fall asleep. The excitement was palpable in our house, at least for my sisters and I.
The gifts were always spectacular to our childish eyes. A few stand out in my memory: The doll set with a thermometer that I broke in the front door keyhole (go figure). A barbie house complete with convertible. Then there was the Hot Wheels race track (although I suspect that the race track was secretly for my dad). One year we received wooden sleds with our names painted on. What fun we had with those!
More important was the looks of sheer delight on my parents’ faces when we giggled and squealed seeing the gifts under the tree that our ‘Santas’ worked so hard to put together in the middle of the night after we finally went to sleep. The time spent playing with mom and dad on the floor in the midst of the chaos is always a great memory.
After presents and breakfast – always in that order, came a late lunch/dinner. Sometimes at home, others a trip to Grandparents’ house. But we were always surrounded by family.
I will always cherish my childhood memories of Christmas Eve when life was magical, unspoiled by adulting and grief. I am blessed to have such grand memories when I know others are not so fortunate.
I will hold fast to the memories
remember to breathe
and keep moving forward.
181 XO Lisa