Seems like a short time ago that I was staying up all night putting together bicycles, racetracks, and swing sets on Christmas Eve. Most memorable is the year we moved into a brand new house 7 days before Christmas and the pressure of having to paint, move, decorate, and be ready for Santa Clause. Of course we were ready and Santa did not disappoint. Also memorable is the Christmas morning of 1969, when 3 feet of snow fell on Christmas Eve in our suburb of Portland Oregon. The natural beauty of that Christmas morning made the idilyc images of Christmas Cards seem pale.
The memories of parenthood contrast with the memories of childhood but they are all warm and have the scent of Cinnamon and sugar cookies. My Father liked to play it cool, never making promises, and wanting to maximize the impact of Christmas morning. Expectations rarely went unmet. With my own family it was a little different; more a carnival of stuff, which is how my ex-wife's family played it during her youth. Regardless of style the special comfort of that day is the same and inescapable.
This will be a different year for me. But my anticipation is no less. I love you Christmas and wait eagerly for you.
