The Ghosts of Christmas' Past
Not really sure what it is, but I have very little Christmas spirit thus far. I have even less anticipation when it comes to New Year's Eve.
Perhaps it's because there isn't any snow, but I am not big on snow anyway so that can't be it. Maybe it's because I haven't stepped foot into a store this year because my beautiful wife told me not to buy her anything and she did all of the rest of the shopping, but I hate stores too, so that most likely isn't it.
The kids are older so the surprise element is gone. They get presents that make a stack only a few inches thick because all of the new electronics are small. They will open the presents quickly, and be on there way.
The week that just passed felt like a month, but a lot of weeks are like that. So, let's figure it out together and perhaps we can get a few moments of celebration out of the season.
Of course, there is the religious element to it. I was an altar boy for at least ten years at the Midnight Mass Celebrations, so it is hard to not think of the time logged in church. I will certainly dwell on God and I will Thank God for what is here, right?
And what was here.
My Mom was telling me about one of my aunts who faith has been shaken to the very core. This poor woman explained that she just didn't believe anymore because God has made her sad, sadder, and saddest over the past few years.
"What about all the love and moments of pure happiness she felt for all the previous years?" I asked. "If God ripped it all apart, He allowed for it to be there in the first place."
I was saying the words to make my Mom feel better, but after a good night of sleep, I woke thinking of that. Writing it down right now, makes me feel a stirring for Christmas.
And then there are the memories. The memories of all the perfect Christmas mornings. The presents, the laughs, the food, the beer, the food and the laughs and the food.
My sister and I traded stories this morning on Facebook.
I wrote of Jeff wrapping a bag of concrete for Mom on Christmas and how excited she was because it was so heavy. Carrie wrote of wrapping presents for my Dad to give to my Mom including wrapping the old, worn-out coat that my Dad had used to cover up the new stuff. The look on my mother's face was priceless when she tried to appear graceful.
We shared the story of beer pong and Grandma Schryver's fruit cake. The losing team had to eat a piece. We were literally gagging eating it, and Grandma caught us. We offened the hell out of that poor woman.
Ah, the love.
Glad we shared so much. Thrilled, actually.
And my boys will really get fired up as the week goes on. I read a story about an impoverished family today. There won't be so much as a Christmas Slim Jim in their home because of injury, loss of home, and bad freaking luck.
I'm sure God is taking his share of the blame.
Our tree is up. That Yankee tree with the 27 Championships noted is set by the door. We are planning the menu for the Christmas Day dinner.
Let's get fired up!
The snow will come.
Perhaps it's because there isn't any snow, but I am not big on snow anyway so that can't be it. Maybe it's because I haven't stepped foot into a store this year because my beautiful wife told me not to buy her anything and she did all of the rest of the shopping, but I hate stores too, so that most likely isn't it.
The kids are older so the surprise element is gone. They get presents that make a stack only a few inches thick because all of the new electronics are small. They will open the presents quickly, and be on there way.
The week that just passed felt like a month, but a lot of weeks are like that. So, let's figure it out together and perhaps we can get a few moments of celebration out of the season.
Of course, there is the religious element to it. I was an altar boy for at least ten years at the Midnight Mass Celebrations, so it is hard to not think of the time logged in church. I will certainly dwell on God and I will Thank God for what is here, right?
And what was here.
My Mom was telling me about one of my aunts who faith has been shaken to the very core. This poor woman explained that she just didn't believe anymore because God has made her sad, sadder, and saddest over the past few years.
"What about all the love and moments of pure happiness she felt for all the previous years?" I asked. "If God ripped it all apart, He allowed for it to be there in the first place."
I was saying the words to make my Mom feel better, but after a good night of sleep, I woke thinking of that. Writing it down right now, makes me feel a stirring for Christmas.
And then there are the memories. The memories of all the perfect Christmas mornings. The presents, the laughs, the food, the beer, the food and the laughs and the food.
My sister and I traded stories this morning on Facebook.
I wrote of Jeff wrapping a bag of concrete for Mom on Christmas and how excited she was because it was so heavy. Carrie wrote of wrapping presents for my Dad to give to my Mom including wrapping the old, worn-out coat that my Dad had used to cover up the new stuff. The look on my mother's face was priceless when she tried to appear graceful.
We shared the story of beer pong and Grandma Schryver's fruit cake. The losing team had to eat a piece. We were literally gagging eating it, and Grandma caught us. We offened the hell out of that poor woman.
Ah, the love.
Glad we shared so much. Thrilled, actually.
And my boys will really get fired up as the week goes on. I read a story about an impoverished family today. There won't be so much as a Christmas Slim Jim in their home because of injury, loss of home, and bad freaking luck.
I'm sure God is taking his share of the blame.
Our tree is up. That Yankee tree with the 27 Championships noted is set by the door. We are planning the menu for the Christmas Day dinner.
Let's get fired up!
The snow will come.
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