Growing up, Christmas was a pretty big deal around my house. My sister & I spent what seemed like weeks creating and revising wish lists to distribute to our parents, extended family members, and most importantly, Santa. So much in fact that by the time it came to open presents I couldn’t remember what I had asked for. I can assure you that whatever appeared under the shredded wrapping paper & formerly perfectly shaped bow was just fine by me. My sister on the other hand could tell you if she didn’t get #3, #7, and #22 on her list. Not only did she have them memorized, I even think she matched them up with the dog-earred pages in the holiday edition of the Sears Wish List Catalog.
The trip home from our Nannie Ella’s Christmas Eve dinner had us looking for Rudolph, finding his red nose blinking in the sky every single time. Neither of us could go to sleep at a decent hour on Christmas Eve with all of that adrenaline pumping, excitement brewing, curiosity swirling. Sleep eluded us. After excrutiating hours (perhaps minutes, same difference when your 10) of starting at the ceiling, fidgeting with my pillow, tossing and turning, tossing and turning, counting sheep, cows, donkeys, zebras, giraffes and just about anything else I could think of that could jump over a fence…I finally calmed down just enough to rest my weary eyes. By 5am I was up. Big eyed and bushy tailed. I would first ever so gently ease open my bedroom door, so it wouldn’t squeak . Look both ways to make sure no one was around and I wasn’t in view. I would then slowwwwwwwly tiptoe down the hallway, cautious not to cause the floorboards to squeak and give my presence away. I headed towards the living room, lit by the glowing christmas tree lights which appeared to be illuminated even more by bouncing off the sparkling and shiny new packages. I would then stand in the entry way and gaze at the glorious room. Full of -pristine wrapped packages with huge shiny, glittery bows. Unwrapped clothes, CDs, Barbie dolls lined the sofa & chair, every piece of furniture covered with our wishlist…and a few things not on our list. My sister’s gifts on one side of the room and mine on the opposite.
When I felt like I couldn’t contain myself from jumping headfirst into the room, I took a deep breath and slowwwwwwwwly started back towards my sister’s bedroom. I would whisper and tap, sometimes shaking her to awaken. We approached our parents room where whispering, tapping and shaking also occured & asked them if we could enter the room. (Somehow we ended up with a rule that we all had to go in the living room together to see what Santa brought & open gifts…even after we discovered who Santa was). Usually our 5am requests were shot down with “It’s 5am, he probably hasn’t been here yet”. “Uh huh, yeah he has”. “UH HUH! Sarah saw it already”. Great, thanks for blowing my cover. Sometimes they got up at 5am, other times we had to go back to bed but after about 30 minutes of whining and making noises they gave in. Even though they had just finished putting out presents a mere 2 hours earlier.
From there it was pure chaos. Squeals, laughter, joy, excitement, paper and blows flying across the room faster than my Dad could scoop it up. “It’s just what i wanted!”, “It’s my favorite present ever!”, “Is that mine or yours? I asked for one too”, “MOM, this has Sarah’s name on it but I think it’s for me”, “What IS it?” “OH MY GOSH! I can’t believe I really got this!”
Then it happened. We grew older & slept later, our interests changed, our perspective on what holiday is really about evolved, gifts were quality over quantity, our family divided and Christmas changed forever. For the last several years, as much as I appreciate them, I no longer want presents or ask for anything in particular-just experiences, traditions, surrounded by love & joy and hope will do. Things changed, but a few things remained the same…
I still appreciate pretty wrapped packages-the time & thought put into it makes it a wonderful work of art. Mom still mixes our gifts up. And writes “From Santa”. Mom still has the most decked out house & amazing Christmas tree ever. How she ever fits all those ornaments on the tree, in the tree, around the tree is a Christmas miracle. The most memorable Christmas gift I received was a set of tickets to my very first concert. The Janet Jackson World Tour. It even ranks above the shiny red car complete with a bow on it. My Dad still needs a cup of coffee before he can even think about opening a gift. And he picks out the greatest christmas cards. I adopt a family so I can give back to the community & show them kindness & joy…and to have an excuse to be in the toy aisle. I travel to family members houses to see what they got from Santa & eat all day long. I end up with glitter in my hair, on my face, everywhere – even when I wasn’t within 10 feet of it. I believe my sister still has a college ruled, back & front wish list that she checks off (just kidding…). I still appreciate “experience” gifts that create a memory moreso than a tangible one.
What’s your most memorable Christmas gift or memory?
(Santa sure has upgraded!)
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