to: me

christmas is a time that i get to feel close to my family. without being close to my family.

jesus' bday eve mass would end at like 4:45 and we’d race home to light the candles for santa’s runway. then we’d trek to a neighborhood house party. remember that one when mrs. morris (unbeknownst to her) lit her hair on fire with the candle she was holding ... and then mom threw her to the floor, wrapped in her coat? 'MAURRRYYYY ... WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGG????' after hors d'oeuvres, i think there was alcohol, and tons of laughs, my whole family would retreat to our family room to giggle and watch whatever was on tv. the giggling would continue in my bedroom, shared with my brother and cousin, until my dad or his dad would come in and lightly/mediumly threaten us.

we’d wake up by 7, hold hands at the top of the staircase and then be instructed to walk down with our eyes closed. (believe me, i’ve checked with the department of children and family services - there is no official language regarding this) my dad would pass each present and then we’d all begin to open. when all gifts were opened, then we would go in and assault our stockings.

breakfast delight consisted of: bacon, entenmann's raspberry swirl danish, grapefruit, and french toast. we’d all pass in and out of consciousness on top of our gifts, mixed with wrapping paper, and make 'merry christmas' phone calls to other family members / friends. (all while mom cooked all day for the upcoming dinner.)

full turkey dinner was served around 4:30pm. then at 4:45pm we’d all thank mom for a great dinner and bring our dishes to the kitchen where she’d be for the rest of the night. one memory in particular: when grandpa realized that he might have tossed one of the dessert forks into the front yard, whilst shaking the table cloth. fear not, he tore the yard’s spot light out of the ground to officially investigate.

i'm not in finland. i'm not in south carolina or marshfield. and i'm not in heaven.

but you are with me. always.