As this holiday of wonder and merriment and glee (Glee!) and all of those other fluffy and delightful adjectives quickly approaches (tomorrow), I've started to ponder. What am I pondering, you ask? I'm pondering *thunder and lightning* how to take over the world!
No, seriously; what does Christmas mean to you? If you read this, post your answer in a comment below this post. But since I've asked I can only do the kindest of favors and share with you how Christmas has evolved in my life and what it has, unfortunately in some instances, grown to mean.
When I was a wee little one, Christmas was "the most wonderful time of the year" and was a day that I anticipated all year long. Not for the presents, not for the cookies and deserts, but for the decorations. I loved decorating my house and Christmas tree(s), my Granny's tree, and then if I was lucky, my Grandma's tree! Every year I would insist on my parent's driving me around so I could see all of the lights around town. My Grandpa and I would drive to Garden Ridge and other stores and places to look at decorations to add to our conglomeration - it was a passion that I know that I acquired from him (RIP Grandpa).
This continued until I was in 4th grade - when I woke up Christmas morning and new something was wrong. My dad was acting strange and my mom was gone - and she never left before our "family pictures" and before I opened my presents, but she claimed that she had to go clean her parent's house - which even I could see through - as usual. The events to follow are memories that I think would be best to keep from you though I would share in a one-on-one situation. But as the day ended, I was sitting in my room at my Granny's alone, afraid, and crying. My mom and dad had a fight, they split up, and would never be back together again. As sad, scared, and confused as I was - there was still hope. I knew that I wouldn't have to endure the things that I had endured growing up anymore - but I knew there was other hell(s) to ensue. Oh, now that's an understatement.
After this day, my view of Christmas (aside from the religious/Christian aspect of Christmas) began to change. It slowly progressed from a magical day to just another day. A day to remember the end to such a disaster. And end to something that I believed was my fault. It was a day that I wanted to forget - and for a few years, a day that I would neglect and attempt to hide from.
That went on for several years until I moved back to Starke and began making friends and attending FBC. Singing in the choir, making healthy, stable friends, etc. helped me to regain what I thought I had long lost.
Now when Christmas comes around, in some attempt to remember what I felt when I was a child, I put up my Christmas Tree(s), decorate my house/apartment, and listen to the music that made me smile those (not-so-long) years ago. I burn the wonderful candles, cook the scrumptious goodies, and go look at all of the lights - and forge some haphazard smile.
Yet here I sit: alone, surrounded by Christmas lights, presents, and candles... wondering what the next year will bring. Have I been successful this year? Have I used my time wisely? Why do I feel stuck? What's missing? What did I fail to do? What can I change about next year? Is Christmas a time to remember the end of the year is near - and bring it all to a close? Or should I save that for New Year's Eve?
That's all for now, my loves.