I want to wake up, look outside my window and see snow erasing all of the familiar surroundings of my neighborhood. I know it is cold out there, but I’m warm and comfortable inside my home; not necessarily because the heater is blowing, but more so because I’m surrounded by the love of home. After gazing in amazement, with a gut filled with excitement I want to take the familiar walk downstairs. When I reach that thirteenth step, I will close my eyes and breathe in the wonderful smells of the holidays. At this particular point in the morning, I am brought to ease as the smell of pine and coffee accumulate in the air. Although it is light out, even brighter because of the snow, the Christmas lights will be blinking on the tree, as if they were dancing to the Christmas music dad has playing in the background. I look over at the couch that Nana used to sleep on when she spent Christmas with us; I am sad, but feel at ease when I feel the love she is sending from Heaven. I take a step to move towards the festivities, but a cold chill takes over my body as I step in a puddle of water, from snow melting off of the shoes in the hallway. I move forward through the living room and right towards the French doors leading into my kitchen. Mom is sipping at her coffee, still in her night gown as she mentally brainstorms the menu for later that evening. Dad is half asleep on the couch listening to the pleasant hum of Christmas music echoing through the house. I instantly grow more cheerful and sing along to the timeless music and fill up my cup of coffee. I notice, though, that for the first time I walked right passed the presents scattered under the tree. While they used to be the pivotal part of my holiday happiness, they now take the back burner. The excitement I feel is the energy in the air, as I know my siblings will be driving over soon and we will all be together like we used to be. Most likely late, everyone begins showing up and we are finally together, safe from the weather, spending Christmas in the best of fashion: Together. We all laugh as Dad mimics the voices of Alvin and the Chipmunks, as he has been doing ever since I could remember. Mom eagerly tries to get us to open our presents, just to see if we like everything she picks out. The presents are the last things on our minds. I can speak for myself when I say that I feel complete just being there as one unit again; the six of us, our personalities, our admiration for one another completes the emptiness that I may have been feeling. Flashbacks of being little continue playing in my mind as Alvin sings about loop-ti-loops. I stand up, in the middle of this comfort, and walk towards the Christmas tree. Dad’s impressive ornament collection still amuses me like it has since I was five. I will turn around, see my family and feel sad at how much change has happened over the years. It isn’t that we love each other less; it is just that we love each other differently, from a distance. My brother cracks a joke and I immediately return to the joy I will feel on this Christmas morning. I sit in between my sisters and we all laugh.
That is all I want for Christmas this year.
Wild in transition.
1 month ago