You never notice it if you don’t know what you’re looking for.
A slow, gradual change undulating down in the background; it’s only evident that it’s Winter when the first breezes stroll, when the last leaves fall, descending to the floor.
To some, it may mean the season of death. Animals prepare food and shelter in advance, for their hibernation during the disastrous weather that Winter brings.
To some, it may mean the season of love, the opportunity to spend time with family and loved ones, spreading warmth and love in the coldest of times.
And to some, it may mean the season of hope. After all, the end of the year is just around the corner.
Winter has a special way of communicating with us. I had never really given a second thought to these subtle, negligible changes that occur simultaneously in the background of our everyday lives. Never had I noticed the signs that stood right in front of my eyes, foreshadowing the changes in season.
Year by year, my definition of Christmas changes. I remembered looking at the photographs of me as an infant, playing in the snow. Apparently, I crapped my pants and had to be sent to a hospital — don’t ask. My father would bring me up to the top of a relatively steep, smooth, and short slope, letting this little baby experience skiing for the first time. But these are all just that: photographs. I don’t actually recall any of these events ever happening, nor have I ever experienced, or ever will experience, Christmas through the eyes of innocence once more. And assuming that this child in the photograph, indeed was I, it is evident that Christmas has ever since left an imprint in the depths of my mind. Despite the fact that I could never draw back to these events, they must have left a significant influence to what I perceive as Christmas today.
Then there’s the year when I was in my childhood years. I was no longer the only child, for a baby was born. My sister, Chelsea. Indeed, she quickly became my new best friend, and little did I know then the significant impact she’d have on me. My parents and I were watching television on the sofa, with my sister sleeping in the cradle in her room. Just after I had to take a leak, something occurred to me. I turned around, wiped my hands clean on my shirt and checked it again. I was right. Something is in the Christmas stockings in the door of my sister’s room! I think I almost screamed to the extent that my parents told me to lower my volume to prevent my sister from awaking. But it was all that a 6 year old could do. “Santa came here” I yelled. My parents exchanged knowing smiles, “perhaps through the window?”. We lived on the highest floor of a 35-floored building.
And I remember when I was 10. It was after a movie, my family and I went to this nifty place for dessert. The topic of Santa got involved, and now the tables have turned — I was the one exchanging knowing looks to my father as he described Santa to my sister. And here’s the turning point, my parents revealed the truth of Santa to both of us. I smiled. I’m not always right, but I’m never wrong.
And now today, I’ve been spending time less with my family due to studies and have mostly diverted my time to spending with friends. The holidays allowed me to treasure every moment I had with my family. It’s Christmas, but there’s no Christmas tree. There’s no stockings, no Christmas pudding, or presents decorated with a ribbon and a bow. There’s just my family and I. And it’s only when you sit in this most comfortable place you know as home, where everything was as it were every year before, that you finally realize: you were the one who changed.
Only then, you notice what you’re looking for: Love.
Posted in Journal Entry, Miscellaneous
Tags: Christmas, Christmas Carol, Family, Holiday, Opinions, Parent, Santa, Santa Claus
