so this is christmas
I’m home, which has been strangely wonderful. Strange because my mother is missing from the picture… and I feel for better or worse, it’s OUR (my brothet and i) Christmas. We made a whole big dinner, two pies, a cake, and chocolate chip, oatmeal and raisin cookies. There are presents under the tree, despite our current economic status -and I feel, despite the way that Texas usually makes me feel 17 again, older. We’ve sat around drinking on Christmas Eve, the way I remember my mother and brothers did and I write this with too much red wine in my stomach.
The children, especially though, are the big difference. I have a neice, with my eyes, my head and my name. I have a nephew, the literal replica of my brother. It makes the upcoming Christmas morning so special.
I’ve been through out my life, ridiculously anti-children. I say ridiculously because it’s a stance I’ve held as long as I can remember in my young life, and of course is one of those things that everyone knows (or hopes) will eventually change with age. So hello 25. I still feel like it’s much to early to have these thoughts, but suddenly…
I was sitting on the bed, Ann crawling and cooing across me, my nephew at my feet watching PBS, and suddenly I thought… I could do this…soon. It seemed a rather errant and irresponsible thought. Of course, I can’t. Not now.
These moods, this biological thing, sometimes you realize how deeply it’s engraned. Deeper than logical thought, it lodges itself into your brain. Maybe it means everything. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it just means the most at Christmas time, when children rule the day, when their greatest gift is simply showing up, their tiny faces a glow, the day only once again loaded with meaning (and let’s not forget Santa.)
I’m rambling here.
What I mean is Merry Christmas. Slowly back away from your neices and nephews.
Get back to your single city life, quick like.
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