Christmas Past

My parents' Christmas boxes still contain the striped and indented balls.

One of the most glorious messes in the world
is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day.
Don't clean it up too quickly.

— Andy Rooney

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 "Do you remember when we were kids after the toys were unwrapped? Jeff asked. "We'd go outside with our new bikes and join all the other kids that had new bikes."

Looking back, my very best, Santa-believing Christmases were spent in Childhood glee.

I was seven when I got my first pair of roller skates. The neighborhood boys were already showing off their new bikes on the steep cement walls and basin of the arroyo behind our houses. I hopped our back fence to join in.

I had my fair share of falls as I tried to skate down the sloped walls. I laughed my ass off every time. Everyone was packed with mirth and too many cookies that afternoon. More so, kids that already knew how to skate or ride a bike helped those who didn't. 

I always had to be home at 1. We would call my Nagymama in New York. I loved her so much! I loved her visits because she taught me beadwork. I loved her hugs because they were extra squishy. I loved seeing her wrinkles turn into a huge smile. Talking to her was the next best thing.

 I miss her now. I always wished I was allowed to spend a summer with her in NYC.

Christmas dinner was always beef. My mum and Nonna cooked it together up until she moved to Missouri. We frequently had guests, like Fr O'Bern. I was always allowed to have a glass of wine - watered down so much that I could barely taste it.

Exhaustion hit me hard Christmas night. I usually went to bed a bit early.

Good times. I wish I could revisit them in person.