While nursing my chronic headache and spooking myself with endless re-runs of Without A Trace, I suddenly realized that my patience (cough, cough) is maxed out when it comes to something that I desperately yearn for. Then as I thought about this more, I realized that the only time I get so excited yet wish to prolong the actual event from occuring is Christmas.
Interesting.
Ever since I was a kid, I have loved Christmas. We still hold true the traditions from when we were little tikes. All 4 siblings sleeping in the same bed/room on Christmas Eve. Presents delivered on Christmas morning from Santa Claus in our respective places. Gifts from Mom & Dad wrapped under the tree prior to Christmas. Poppyseed bread and milk in our festive mugs for breakfast. Naps between breakfast and lunch. Stockings hung, falling due to the overload of candy, and then rehung again (sans as much candy). Getting up incredibly early to see what Santa brought.
As I grew older, my mom retired from her elf duties of handing out the wrapped gifts. Enter moi. Subconsciously, like a little worker bee, I spend my Christmas morning passing out presents like hot potatoes to my siblings and parents. Attempting to distribute evenly is a juggle leaving me with a stack of gifts to open while everyone else has begun transporting their new gear to their rooms.
Something about savoring the moment gets me. Every year. I just don't want to let go. I don't want to let go of my childhood, precious moments without worry, and the innocence & faith that comes with Christmas. It's the believing in something so magical that I just don't want to let go.
Ahh to practice that type of excitement and patience when it comes to other things...
No comments:
Post a Comment