Christmas 2012
Every year since we purchased our home, I promised myself that I would do our house up big for the holidays. Three years later, I dragged our tree and assorted decor out of garage storage sometime around mid-December but actually didn’t decorate it (or the house). In the end, it was our housemate who ended up putting up the decor the day before she left to spend the holidays with her family in the South Bay.
While being sick certainly had something to do with it — down with bronchitis pretty much the entirety of December — it just didn’t feel like Christmas this year. Every year, I tell myself that I’ll do more for Christmas and somehow, I end up doing less. I know part of it is economic circumstances which doesn’t help my holiday mood any. It makes me feel bad, especially since I want to make the holidays as magical for TLE as they were for me. And I feel like I’m failing her because I just can’t deliver.
There weren’t a lot of presents under the tree this year. But then I look at photos like this, her excitement as she climbed into her “big girl” car for the first time, and am reminded, not for the first time, that the presents — neither quality nor quantity of them — really mattered.
All that she really cared about on Christmas morning, as she cuddled the stuffed cat that was all that she had really asked Santa for, was that she had Mommy and Daddy to cuddle her on our laps while she was watched Christmas cartoons and ate candy canes.
There may come a time when she’s older, when TV and the Internet will tell her about the fancy decorated houses and the mounds of Christmas gifts that define the holidays in other households. And I harbor a hope to deliver that to her, someday. But my deepest wish is that she remembers — and will continue to remind me — the best Christmas gift of all for her when she was three years old: to be loved and warm and cuddled by Mommy and Daddy.
Copyright
Text and photographs copyrighted by Michelle N unless otherwise noted.