11/30/97
Happy Holiday season everyone!
I'm not sure exactly why the holiday season is so special to me. I appreciate my family and my time with them as much as the next person, but I think that the holiday season comes back to me with such wonderful memories of being young. The expectation of Santa coming along. The little things that my parents did to make it less materialistic, and more about appreciating the things in life that are most important to us.
We'd decorate the tree like the true all-American family. None of those white-light-only-red-balls trees for us. |
We were always an egg-nog with cinammon family. We'd bundle up as much as necessary in our Florida home and wait for the season to start dropping its hints. First it would be the candy cane that Santa left outside on our bedroom's windowsill. Each year one of us would get it first, and the other ones would be on their best behaviors with the thought of Santa peeking in their windows enough to deter any needless arguments. We'd decorate the tree like the true all-American family. None of those white-light-only-red-balls trees for us. We hauled a new tree every year into our sun room, decorated it with the ornaments we had made that year at school and every year before...and added a few real ornaments if any branches were empty. We never worried about the mess, because we knew the memory of each year's tree would be preserved when we planted it on New Year's Day, undecorated, into our backyard. That way we could have a real Christmas tree in July! |
We'd always host the neighborhood holiday party. Kids would flood into our house with their parents, eager to hide and seek behind the tree, and see if Santa Claus would peek in with his reindeer. We girls would dance around to the holiday music in our velvet dresses, feeling so much more mature than the boys with their already untucked dress shirts and ties lost somewhere in the presents.
| Hours (it felt like) into the party we'd hear sleigh bells jingling from out in the back yard and we'd all run out the sliding doors to be the first to give our list. Santa would come inside,and I'd giggle to myself that I knew he looked like my Daddy, but I didn't want to ruin it for everyone else. I understood that Santa had helpers- I needed no more explanation, I just thought it was cool that my dad was one of the ones he picked. We'd all sit on his lap and every year say we wanted a horse of our very own. When Santa had to leave, we'd all bundle up- adults and kids- and go through the neighborhood caroling. Stopping at every other house, being invited in for cider and cookies. We had it made. | Santa would come inside,and I'd giggle to myself that I knew he looked like my Daddy, but I didn't want to ruin it for everyone else. |
We'd wake up on Christmas morning, run in to get mom and dad and rush to see what Santa had left under the tree. I never understood why mom and dad didn't get presents from Santa. I was always told that as long as you believed in the spirit of Christmas, it would believe in you, and your value as a person. When I was young, I thought that meant I would keep getting presents. Now I know it means so much more.
With holiday wishes and love,
Julie
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