It's midnight, exactly, on Christmas morning. Santa has just arrived, after waiting for our little seven year-old to fall asleep. Steve and I can't decide if it was the anticipation or the skepticism which kept him awake, but I'm leaning more on the side of anticipation. As a child, I remember laying in bed on Christmas Eve, remembering a story a neighbor friend had told me about seeing Rudolph's nose in the sky. He was about four years older than I was and must have known the truth about Santa, but he continued to play along for my sake and probably saved me for about two more Christmases.
I don't remember how I found out about Santa, just remember the let down I felt when my younger brother got lots of toys and I got clothes. The disappointment I felt, along with the guilt I laid on my mother, was thick, and I dread that first Christmas when one of my boys doesn't believe. Thankfully I have the Santa picture (see previous post) which should save us for another year.
This year feels like a Christmas like I've never had, almost like the first Christmas I found out there was no Santa Claus for a couple of reasons. The first is the first Christmas we haven't gone to our parent's house or had some guests on Christmas morning. When we lived in Alexandria, my parents always arrived before the boys woke up and we all opened our gifts together. Since moving to the country, Steve's parents have always come in and spent the morning with us. As a family with five children, we certainly are not going to have a boring morning, but it does feel weird to be doing this on our own. I guess we are grown-ups now!
The other way this is not a normal Christmas is my heart is very heavy. Steve's grandmother is very ill, in the hospital from a life-threatening stroke. Barring some miracle, she will lose her life very soon. Although she is not my grandmother by blood, she feels like one to me. She has lived an incredible life and every time I am with her I learn something new. She has kept a daily journal for more than eighty years, chronicling every detail of her life including where she has slept. She has been to six of the seven continents and continues to amaze me with her adventures. I love this woman, she is the one I have always wanted to name my daughter after and thankfully was given the chance. My heart is breaking for her pending loss, I ache to have my children and myself know her much better.
Christmas is a special time for me to remember all I love and all who have touched my heart. To my dad, to Grammy, to my children and to my husband...I love you all! Merry Christmas!
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