The Christmases of my childhood were riotous, a crush of visitor after visitor, food that flowed freely and conversation punctuated by equal parts laughter and silence. For awhile, there was even a boyfriend who rounded out every Christmas gathering, a boy who slipped easily into my family and adopted our traditions as his own. The day often passed in a blur; I remember very few specific moments – just intensely, wildly experienced happiness.
For the past three years, my family has spent Christmas as a singular unit. My mother’s only brother moved to Texas when I was a senior in high school, and we celebrate with my father’s side later in the week, so Christmas day is rather quiet. I think my parents miss the bustle of the day, and so do I, in a way. The lull at the end of December only increases my desire for a large extended family with which to celebrate the holidays.
But for now, there is just us five. But the just-us-five is more than enough for me. We had the merriest, most blessed of Christmases, filled with good food, wonderful movies, and my father’s perpetually terrible jokes (which I not-so-secretly adore).
I hope you all had a wonderful past few days. Happy Holidays, and to those who celebrate, Merry Christmas.