Christmas approaches, and with it comes a mixed bag of feelings and emotions.
Christmas has always been held special magic in my family. I have many memories of gathering in the kitchen with my Abuela, Mother, and Dearest Sister as we rolled out dough for guava filled Cuban pastries, of lying on the floor in the dark, with only the lights on the tree illuminating the ornaments and the smell of fir in the air. Even Dearest Sister and I set aside our sororal antagonism in order to dress up in Christmas stockings and tree skirts, the photographic evidence of which is still lying about someplace.
But after working retail for many years–I was a professional gift wrapper, you know–the Christmas Magic was gone, replaced with a cynicism that only comes when Christmas arrives in August. It took me nearly five years to recover from those years, and only then could I tolerate Christmas in small doses. Then, two years ago, just as I was enjoying it again, I was hit with a setback of my own making, the full effect of which occurred just eight days before Christmas. Last week I mentioned how reading Mary Balogh’s
Last week I mentioned how reading Mary Balogh’s A Christmas Promise was an emotional experience for me. Getting worked up while reading didn’t come as too much of a shock, considering all that had happened. Needless to say it made for a rather miserable holiday and not even the antics of Fave Nephie and Fave Niece could bring me completely out of my doldrums.
But this year, this year I am finally getting my Holiday Groove back. I find myself listening to Christmas music (which I had loathed after my years of retail), and eager to decorate the house, and begin baking some holiday treats. This will be my first Christmas without my immediate family. While I have to be home to work the Day Job, they are visiting with Dearest Sister and the Littles, tucked up nice and warm while it snows outside.
Yet even in this there is magic as modern technology allows me to be up early on Christmas morning so I can connect to FaceTime and watch as the Littles open their presents.
And that’s what Christmas is all about. Seeing the delight and joy and excitement on their faces makes the world brighter, and has a definite healing magic of its own, especially to someone who thought all magic was gone from the season.
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