If you read my sister (cicigreen
)'s journal, you may have seen her most recent post involving Christmas. I feel the need to add on to this, because it's effecting me in ways it probably shouldn't.
I love Christmas. I really do. It's my favorite season, and holiday and everything. Not because of the presents, though those are great. It's the sense of community you get to feeling.
There are decorations everywhere you look, and they have special songs playing, and specific movies. And everything is just good at Christmas time. (Okay, maybe not, but everything manipulates itself to being good so that we can be happy).
And in my house, we never do anything small. Coming from a family of 7, Christmas mornings were hectic and wonderful experiences. From the years between 1990 and 1993-ish, there were never less than 7 people here, and often more. Mommy has a way of taking in straggler friends of my oldest siblings who might not have had the best homelife experiences, or who's family moved away and they wanted to finish high school here. Constant commotion. 24-7.
Progressively, the numbers went down. People moved out. People moved back in. But for a while it was 6, my parents, Ci, Zoe, Fayanne and I because Dave and Emily had both moved out with their significant others.
Then Fayanne went to college. And it was 5. Then earlier this year, Cici and Zoe moved out. And that took some getting used to. From a house that has had upwards of 10 occupants (in a 3 bedroom ranch house. *laughs* It's amazing, it really is), to 3. And it was me and my parents. How weird?
This has a point, I swear.
Anyway, no matter who moves out, or who moves in, or how long it's been since we've seen them, or whatever, they always come home for the holidays. That's what they are for, aren't they?
Then for the past three years, Mommy and I have gone to Orlando for Thanksgiving. I've had my fair share of issues with that. But honestly, I've never been a big Thanksgiving fan. As much as I may love food, I don't think it needs its own holiday.
And besides, I always had Christmas. Em and Tom would come for Christmas, as would Dave and Katie. And Fayanne came home, of course. And Ci and Zoe lived here last year.
But what about this year?
Em and Tom might be with Tom's mom because she's very sick. And Ci and Zoe have their own place. What are they going to do, write Santa and tell him to drop off Zoe's presents at Grandma's house? And Dave and Katie? I assume they are still coming, and Fayanne will be home.
But still. 5. That's it. 5 people. 5 people doesn't constitute a huge breakfast that Mommy used to cook up. 5 people doesn't take an hour to open every present, and then more time to clean up. 5 grown people leaves no toys and games to play with all day. No hustle and bustle, and comfortable chaos.
As evident from this post, and I know I've mentioned it before. I love Christmas. I absolutely adore it, as the last thing that can bring my family together totally and completely in a joyous setting, other than maybe a wedding. But weddings don't let you sit around the living room, listening to Christmas CDs and laughing and lounging all day.
I want my Christmas. I want everyone at this house. The house I've lived in for all 17 years of my life. In the living room that Christmas has always been held in, and the kitchen that breakfast has always been made in, and the dining room table that is too small, but we manage to cram around anyway. I want to laugh about who got the most presents, and who was mom and dad's "favorite". I want to throw wrapping paper balls at people, and have fun.
I need my Christmas.
Okay, I really have to get back to work. I'm sorry.