Santa, Baby come back
I hope you all had a magical Christmas...now if you'll excuse me, I must go into denial that it has passed, and reside there until next year... but in all seriousness, what are some of your beloved holiday traditions?
My family never went all out for the holidays the way I dream of these days, but when I think back, it's the little details that my memory defines as Christmas. My mom dragging silver dozhdik across the walls and cabinets...tidily tucking a tiny, but charming tree into layers of blankets atop a wooden table (first a beautiful winged rectangular cabinet, succeeded in later years with a round one; both boasted a decadent chocolate finish). All in the night before Christmas.
Cooking all day. Christmas eve, starting late in the evening, and lasting a perfect eternity. Or at least that was the feeling created with food coma, Christmas movie marathons, and string lights that cast hazy, utterly hypnotic to me imprints on the wall above the couch on which I dozed. Each of my sisters draped across a different sofa or armchair. Caramelized popcorn in the enormous canisters decorated with images of puppies and cottages embedded in the snow.
When the time finally came to sleep, sleep wouldn't come, warded off as it was with anticipation for Christmas morning. Falling asleep in the wee hours, and waking not long after. Attempting to rouse our sleep deprived mom, and being tragically rebuffed. Leftover olivye for breakfast. My dad smiling in polite humor as we opened our presents.
This was all in the days before Rambo moved into my house, and my sisters moved out. Christmas feels different now, like Christmas grew up same as we did, but it will never cease being special. I have to remind myself that Christmas is a state of mind. And a state of mind does not disappear just because the calendar marks a new era, or a new dawn. Nor does it leave when decorations come down.
Mine is a happy denial.