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Remembering….
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This is the season of remembering. We long for the wide eyed children we once were, for the innocence of play outdoors until Mother called us in for supper. For gifts wrapped and left mysteriously under a fragrant tree. It is though we recall images from a beloved movie that plays out for us at this time of year. The snow scene figures my mother and I arranged on our dining room credenza, her famous ambrosia salad in the bowl that was used only for that purpose. My grandmother playing carols on the organ, everyone singing. Sledding down the hill across the street, bundled against a cold I really didn’t feel.
All these things and people are gone now, yet are permanently secure in the part of me that is still that child.I know that time has worked its magic, shining a soft glow on the happy moments, while gently blurring the painful ones. I also know that I continue to create new experiences – there are new family members, new friends. I am the grandmother now; what memories my grandchildren will carry is anyone’s guess.
Christmas does not hold the same import that it once did for me. That is a fact, though I continue to revere the meaning and the hope it represents. I continue to love the stories, the music, the liveliness of the holiday. Sometimes it brings out the very best of humanity. Sometimes it is magical for me- if only for a moment. But, always – always – Christmas is about remembering.