Dahoo Dores
Happy Holidays :) Merry Christmas to those of you who grew up with an evergreen in the living room and your own "most special" Christmas traditions for which you waited all year to revisit.
This time of the year is so utterly sacred: reserved for a deep dive into the memory bank and into that precious chamber of my heart where very tender bits of my foundation lie. Life was as wild as it was enabled to be in a family of seven, except for Christmas. My parents departed from the McCallister's vision of a holiday in Paris and decided each year we would be Home Together. Thank you for that gift, Mom and Dad. Part of me wonders if we woke up earlier than any other day of the year to race to the gifts under the tree OR if it was to maximize the magic of precious time together devoid of other obligations or agendas. Of course by a certain age, we were taking turns using the landline to call our best friends to inventory our Christmas loot. And year later maybe we would be texting our boyfriends or making plans for the day after Christmas. What dopes...that unadulterated down time in the nest is so holy. I suppose I should count myself lucky to be able to say so. Not everyone feels that way about their nest. I hope that those very folks have built their own by now which they covet as a refuge and an ultra comfort zone.
Why do I also feel such heartache during the holidays? Maybe it's because in my childhood I knew nearly nothing of the sadness in the world: the inherently innocent ignorance of a child. And maybe too because life was simpler for the seven of us, coddled in the sanction of the nest, before evolving into adulthood: a complex enlightenment rife with enrichment but also anguish.
Despite the anguish, I maintain the optimism of that little middle-child girl from the nest. I do still believe. Life has all the potential that it did sitting, looking out from the nest. Yes, wicked exists in the world worse than the witches from our movies...maybe they are the moviehouse allegories. But the heroes exist too. And I believe as I tell our kids: oftentimes the witches just haven't learned yet. We live in a world where Grinches have the potential to turn toward the light, find themselves again...save Christmas. Fuzzy, Seussical, green redemption.
What do the kids see in that 1966 Grinch flick we have had on since the beginning of December? Jack loves the mischievous tone in the first half, May sings in a high Soprano along with the Who's, "Dahoo Dores". Ohhh, that's right. They aren't adults yet; they are relishing the humor, the melody, the oldschool animation. They aren't dissecting the meaning of the movie...and the world at large.
Just when I thought the magic of Christmas would never quite be what it was...May and then Jack left their seats in the starry sky and entered our lives. Now we have our own "most special" traditions in our house, with its dedicated Christmas tree spot. We spend the whole month of December checking the countdown (counting is big in our house right now...at ages 2.5 and 5 we count EVERYTHING), taking turns to whisk the cocoa to frothy completeness on the stove after cold work and play outside, telling Christmas stories and caroling loudly in the car to ourselves. I suppose I'm just trying to maximize it all, knowing from experience that it's gone too soon. What a wonder it is to have them in our nest and to see the light in their eyes this Christmas: it's the greatest gift and the only one that I'll be inventorying with NOT my boyfriend, but with Rich :). I really don't want anything anymore, just Rich's Christmas morning babka...and the stars in their eyes.