This actually isn't the music I was looking to listen to, but somehow it seems to fit. Someone special taught me that sometimes its the simplest most quiet of voices that speaks the loudest. Rather than the huge orchestral arrangements I was looking for originally this is what seems to fit.
We did Christmas this morning at my Aunt's house. It was nice. We all did the traditional Christmas. We ate too much, opened in minutes what took someone hours (in two cases, my aunts gifts and my own) to wrap. The kids were thrilled to death with the haul. I opened the gifts from my mother, which were far too many due to the other kindnesses that she gave me this season.
I got my pajamas, and slipper socks. In my family you get pajamas for Christmas its just the way it is. Now that I am home, and decompressed from the loudness and business from the day, and clad in said pajamas I can kind of sit back and reflect on them. God knows it must sound so silly to be in tears over something so simple, but in my life there have been so many things that have fallen flat, and fallen away, something this simple that's so constant is a precious joy.
First let me cover this a little, you'll see this is written around 4pm and you're probably thinking pajamas... huh? But I've worked a lot this week, and overnight and haven't slept yet today darnit! Pajamas are ok.
For as long as I could remember I've gotten pajamas for Christmas. Christmas eve when I was little we used to go visit Aunt Mary, an elderly relative of ours. She was actually my like great great aunt or something. We would spend some time there, and then leave lamenting how she didn't live all that far away, and we should visit more. Lord, that woman could COOK! Even in her older years. She made all the stuff that you pay a oodles for in an Italian restaurant. (Pasta Fagouil etc.) We did what last minute stuff we might have, and we'd have a big meal of baked macaroni, and fried flounder. I was raised Catholic and Christmas Eve was strictly meat less. And that was the meal, still is I think. Occasionally someone will throw in some shrimp cocktail but that's about the only difference.
My Aunt who was out of the house came and would eat, when I was little though her presents would wait til Christmas day. Then we'd load up in the cars and head to my other Aunt's who's house was like an all night buffet on Christmas eve. Food more than you could imagine. Lasagna, Eggplant Parmesan and plenty of Italian bread, salad, trays of olives and pickles, deviled eggs, crackers and pepperoni and cheese including the dreaded to me anyway provolone, or sock cheese as my sister coined it in later years regarding its dirty sock aroma. Always a bowl of red hard boiled eggs which I would come to know the symbolism of in later years. That's just the food, we haven't even gotten to the desserts. Family and neighbors bringing trays of cookies from the bakeries or that they made, or pastries or canolies and pies and cakes. You could gain 50 lbs looking at the table. Thats personally what I attribute my whole weight on. (Not really)
There would be presents to open there and we'd ooh and ahh and late in the evening we'd go home. Around 10:30 sometimes as late as 11. Somehow it seems as we got older we started coming home earlier, but that's and age thing I'm sure. Santa always seemed to want to come earlier as we got older and my sister was at the Santa age.
We'd go home, set the scene for Santa and then we could pick one present under the tree to open to make more room for the Santa presents. Mine was always the clothes box, always from my Grandfather (whom we lived with) and it was always pajamas. You went to bed on Christmas eve in your Christmas pajamas. When you came down the next morning Santa had always come.
My grandfather was gone three years on the 15th, and somehow when I get the box that I know are the pajamas I still expect the tag to say love pop-pop. Of course I still expect him to answer the phone at my mom's (Formerly his house) when I call too. 31 now, and still getting the Christmas pajamas, still wearing them on Christmas eve. When and if I ever have children, they will be allowed to open one present on Christmas eve...
We had this little metal chime that was stars inside of stars that rang. My aunt anna gave it to us when I was 5 and when you heard it on Christmas eve night it meant Santa had been there and he was leaving. Of course as I got older and began my obsession with its a wonderful life I also learned that lots of angels got their wings that night. Its one thing that in my various moves from home I have been missing on my tree was a bell that actually rang. This year someone who is very dear to me sent me one, and touched me in a whole new way. Because its a bell from his tree, from his own mother's ornaments. The "Angel" Bell..
I don't need Santa to ring it for me though because I already have so many gifts and have been so blessed this year. More than I can ever really explain. My Aunt that I am close to here now that I have moved to Tenn. tells me all the time that I need to go out more that I will never meet real friends online, but so many of the people that I have met online have blessed me and have touched my life in so many ways.
And of course there are more malevolent spirits that raise their head at this time of year. The broken dreams, like misfit toys almost that like to creep in. The losses, family, friends, that I hate, that I lament. That I wish I could fix. Some things can't be fixed, and some things shouldn't be "fixed" because what's fixed for me isn't necessarily fixed for them.
Long story short, Thank you, a huge and loving thank you to all the people in my life that have blessed me this year and in all the years before. To those who shone light in my path when it was darkest. To those who help and guide when I am lost. To those who shut up and listen when I need to rant, and let me know when I need to shut up and listen. Thank you for touching my life. Thank you for being in my life.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
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