So Christmas, to me, is a very strange thing. In past years, the excitement has dimmed, the spirit-- though still present-- has become repetitive, and the gifts-- both giving and receiving-- receive più and più disappointed reactions. Basically, it has been slowly, but steadily losing its flavor. And while, a few years ago, I watched Taylor Momsen sing away in the new Grinch movie and wondered the same thing she did, my ending wasn't as cathartic as hers.
Eventually, though, I came to accept that Natale just wasn't like it was for me ten years ago. When my brother would sneak into my room and wake me up at 3AM on Natale Eve so we could go on a covert mission to spy on the presents Santa left us under the tree. When I pretended to still believe in Santa when I found out he wasn't real at eight-years-old, because I thought my thirteen-year-old big brother would be disappointed if I didn't. When my dad forced me to set my alarm clock for a reasonable hour-- seven, o eight o'clock instead of three o six. How I always reset it after he detto good night, and how he always came back in when I was asleep again to set it back.
But today, I came to a different conclusion.
Now, this isn't an articolo about how I found "the true meaning of Christmas." But it is an articolo about growing up a little.
I Amore Christmas-- even though the excitement has dimmed, and I always will. I Amore the TV specials, and the radio stations playing carols 24/7, and the lights on the houses, and the cold weather. And today, my parents went to sleep and I waited around for a while. And then I decided to go get their calza, maglia rasata stuffers and fill them.
Now, when I was eight-years-old and found out there was no Santa Claus, I also understood why my parents' stockings were always empty. So from that anno inoltrare, avanti I took it upon myself to fill those stockings. In the beginning, being a child, all I could do was put home made biscotti, cookie and cards etc. in them. But as I grew older, they turned into really nifty gadgets and things.
Anyways, this anno I told them there wouldn't be a lot and they looked at me and detto they didn't care. Every year, they tell me not to do it, o at least my dad does. My mother always thinks it's cute, even though I'm nineteen now and it's a sterling silver collana and pendant instead of a macaroni one. So anyways, I switch on my Natale Musica and start humming as I put the things in their stockings. I realize I needed to write to, from and data on the gift I was putting in my Dad's stocking-- a "Remember When" booklet from 1948, the anno he was born. On the lista of famous births, I put a Post-It that read my Dad's name, birth date, and occupation ("Awesome Dad") just like the others listed. I put it in the stocking. I poured in the Hershey's kisses I bought. I walked da the albero and saw the caramelle canes hanging there, and put one in each stocking. OK, this is getting too specific. The point is, I thought I had been done, and realized there were so many little things I could do without going shopping.
Just as I finished all of this, smiling a little, looking at the presents, I sat down, about to turn of the Musica and the computer, when my phone goes off. It's not a text message o a caller, it's an alarm. 12:00-- "Christmas!" is what the screen reads. I set the alarm a anno ago, on December 26th.
I don't know why, but the alarm stirred something in me. It reminded me when I purposefully set it for twelve, because of all those years fa when I would be asleep da now. And I realized, I had become my parents-- in the good way, not the bad way. I did their stockings every anno because regardless of if they needed me to o not, I liked feeling like there was something I could do to take care of them. I liked putting Post-It's inside booklets and stealing caramelle canes from the albero for them. Hell, I even ate a cookie and a glass of milk.
It made me feel good.
And I don't know if it's because my brother is all alone in Hull, England this Christmas, o because I realized that today I really spent some quality time with my parents, o because I don't see my family as much anymore living all the way across the country from them, but... I actually felt like it was the best Natale Eve in a long time.
And that's it. That's all I really wanted to share... Sorry to take up your time, but I warned te it was corny.
Eventually, though, I came to accept that Natale just wasn't like it was for me ten years ago. When my brother would sneak into my room and wake me up at 3AM on Natale Eve so we could go on a covert mission to spy on the presents Santa left us under the tree. When I pretended to still believe in Santa when I found out he wasn't real at eight-years-old, because I thought my thirteen-year-old big brother would be disappointed if I didn't. When my dad forced me to set my alarm clock for a reasonable hour-- seven, o eight o'clock instead of three o six. How I always reset it after he detto good night, and how he always came back in when I was asleep again to set it back.
But today, I came to a different conclusion.
Now, this isn't an articolo about how I found "the true meaning of Christmas." But it is an articolo about growing up a little.
I Amore Christmas-- even though the excitement has dimmed, and I always will. I Amore the TV specials, and the radio stations playing carols 24/7, and the lights on the houses, and the cold weather. And today, my parents went to sleep and I waited around for a while. And then I decided to go get their calza, maglia rasata stuffers and fill them.
Now, when I was eight-years-old and found out there was no Santa Claus, I also understood why my parents' stockings were always empty. So from that anno inoltrare, avanti I took it upon myself to fill those stockings. In the beginning, being a child, all I could do was put home made biscotti, cookie and cards etc. in them. But as I grew older, they turned into really nifty gadgets and things.
Anyways, this anno I told them there wouldn't be a lot and they looked at me and detto they didn't care. Every year, they tell me not to do it, o at least my dad does. My mother always thinks it's cute, even though I'm nineteen now and it's a sterling silver collana and pendant instead of a macaroni one. So anyways, I switch on my Natale Musica and start humming as I put the things in their stockings. I realize I needed to write to, from and data on the gift I was putting in my Dad's stocking-- a "Remember When" booklet from 1948, the anno he was born. On the lista of famous births, I put a Post-It that read my Dad's name, birth date, and occupation ("Awesome Dad") just like the others listed. I put it in the stocking. I poured in the Hershey's kisses I bought. I walked da the albero and saw the caramelle canes hanging there, and put one in each stocking. OK, this is getting too specific. The point is, I thought I had been done, and realized there were so many little things I could do without going shopping.
Just as I finished all of this, smiling a little, looking at the presents, I sat down, about to turn of the Musica and the computer, when my phone goes off. It's not a text message o a caller, it's an alarm. 12:00-- "Christmas!" is what the screen reads. I set the alarm a anno ago, on December 26th.
I don't know why, but the alarm stirred something in me. It reminded me when I purposefully set it for twelve, because of all those years fa when I would be asleep da now. And I realized, I had become my parents-- in the good way, not the bad way. I did their stockings every anno because regardless of if they needed me to o not, I liked feeling like there was something I could do to take care of them. I liked putting Post-It's inside booklets and stealing caramelle canes from the albero for them. Hell, I even ate a cookie and a glass of milk.
It made me feel good.
And I don't know if it's because my brother is all alone in Hull, England this Christmas, o because I realized that today I really spent some quality time with my parents, o because I don't see my family as much anymore living all the way across the country from them, but... I actually felt like it was the best Natale Eve in a long time.
And that's it. That's all I really wanted to share... Sorry to take up your time, but I warned te it was corny.
