The one thing that excited me the most about Christmas Eve was what any kid gets overly excitable about, presents.
Every year for about 17 years I would sum up Christmas as my favorite holiday of the year simply because I got to receive. Sure I gave my share of gifts here and there, I purchased that cologne for my brother, those polo tee shirts for my father, and at one point I even gave my mother various Victoria Secret booty short underwear because I thought she’d like them. To this day I haven’t figured out if she ever wore them.
Regardless, Christmas was about giving and better yet, receiving. The night before Christmas Eve, I would not be able to fall asleep. It’s that kind of feeling you get when you are excited about something that is to come and can’t wait for it, so suddenly you don’t feel sleepy. Although, you know that the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner it will come. Those nights were long, and overall never-ending, but once that night came, that one night that I had been yearning for day-in and day-out, it was the best feeling in the world, to finally unwrap that gold paper, to finally destroy that red bow my mother probably worked extremely hard on to make it perfect, to tackle that present as if I was taking down a charging football player, gear and all.
I guess what exited me was the fact that I could open and destroy that beautiful wrapping, because once I would open the gift, once I had figured out what was inside I suddenly had no interest, then had to move on to the next. For all I knew I could have been opening empty boxes and still I would have been overly excited to open and rip that wrapping out.
That feeling ended Christmas 2010. My parents took me on an extraneous two-week long motor home vacation from Southern California to Chicago, Illinois. The point was to spend Christmas with family we had not seen in years. Needless to say I was not pleased, not pleased that I was removed from the normal tradition of staying in for the holidays, opening presents, and having that wonderful Christmas meal.
After arriving, I was amazed. Because of my So Cal qualities, I had never seen snow fall. Sure, I had seen it on the side of the road here and there up mountains or on mini vacations, but what I saw in Illinois, astounded me. It was truly a white Christmas. The sky was white, the snow was white, and everywhere I looked all I could see was white and green. To this day, that was truly the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Suddenly, the materialist aspect of the holiday no longer mattered; suddenly all I wanted to do was spend time with family inside a decorated home with hot chocolate in between my hands and celebrate that once again we were reunited as one. Time is what I celebrated that Christmas, the time I’ve had the luck of sharing with those who I love and are loved by. Good thing that’s all that mattered that Christmas, because I later found out I wasn’t going to receive a present that year, and guess what, I was okay with it.