Anticipation

Christmas Eve.

Forget all that science-y stuff about the shorter days of winter. My brothers and I knew that the day preceding Christmas was, without question, the longest day of the year.

We’d rise early and immediately begin imploring our parents to allow us to open one gift. Just one.
They never relented.

“After dark,” they’d say. “The Christmas tree lights are prettier after dark.” Or, “You know we never unwrap until after your Dad gets home.”

Daddy managed the Piggly Wiggly in our town and on Christmas Eve he often kept the store open just a bit later as folks would rush in for last minute purchases. To us it felt like hours. We didn’t care if Mrs. Jones needed one more can of Cream of Mushroom soup, or if Mr. Smith had forgotten to purchase batteries for the toy fire truck his kids would find under the tree, but Daddy did.

My brothers and I would do our best to stay busy, but every ten minutes or so we’d have to check in with the tree. Look over the presents Mom had carefully wrapped, speculating about their contents. Wondering if it was dark enough yet. At noon. With Daddy still at work.

And even when it was dark enough, and our dad was safely home, we were forced to do inconsequential stuff, like hugging relatives and eating dinner, before we could open our gifts. It was inhumane.

Finally, though, some grown up would decide the time had come. We children would sit, almost patiently, around the tree as gifts were handed out in dramatic fashion by the person who had been voted “Most Likely to Have Been a Snail in a Former Life.” And once they’d all been distributed, we’d be given a signal and heaven help anyone who tried to slow us down.

I don’t remember much about specific gifts. There were always pajamas. New clothes for school. A game or a toy to tide us over until Santa made his delivery early on Christmas morning. Books and records.

But I remember the anticipation. The scent of our favorite foods emanating from the kitchen. The way my grandparents hugged us like they hadn’t just seen us the day before and the day before that. The way Mom’s eyes lit up when Daddy came through the door. My own excitement reflected in my little brothers’ eyes.

And right now, I wish it could happen again. Exactly as it was back then.

May your Christmas be merry and bright, and filled with love.

Unknown's avatar

Author: nananoyz

I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats.

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