The Christmas season has come and gone, not taking much from me on its way. I remember when I would wait for Christmas morning all year long, always thinking up the things I wanted the next year, scribbling them on a scrap of paper, and then stuffing it somewhere and forgetting about it.
I was like a squirrel with a wish list cache. Never tiring of the holiday season, I was always a blithe, young child with merry thoughts floating around in my head every waking moment. I was enraptured by the glow of the twinkling Christmas lights strung up all around the house, in a coma from the plethora of candy canes I stole off the tree, and rosy cheeked from the hours I’d spent frolicking in the snow. Sigh, those were good times.
As soon as December hit this year, I was anticipating the annual euphoric feeling of Christmas cheer to hit with full force and carry me on a cloud to Christmas morning. I waited for the rush of mirth and optimism, a surge of understanding and peaceful intentions toward all mankind.
It took me a while to realize that even after Christmas morning had come and gone, I was still waiting. For some reason all the Christmas hype was gone, nowhere to be found. Christmas cheer passed me up, and I felt like I wasn’t in on some big secret. Someone forgot to tell me to smile, to drink eggnog, to eat candy canes, to poke and prod every present under the tree with a mischievous smile playing about my lips. Sadly, I think I only ate one candy cane this year because I forced myself to.
My heart just wasn’t in it this year. I didn’t plan my gifts months ahead, I didn’t even write a Christmas list which is shocking news, considering I used to lovingly perfect mine and my brother’s list every year.
It may be the fact I’m finally growing up a little bit. Maybe I’m finally giving up my insatiable appetite for worldly possessions. Maybe I’ve realized family is more important. Or maybe I’ve taken on the attitude that it’s just another holiday, just another day that’s a little bit more jolly than the rest, supposedly.
I don’t know, I just didn’t feel anything this year; a numbness had set in I could never shake. No matter how many times I heard Christmas songs on the radio, I never took the time to enjoy them and sing along. I don’t believe I even spoke those two characteristic, clichéd words, “Merry Christmas.” I pretty much just stood in the midst of the hustle and bustle, everything blurring around me in fast forward while I paralyzed with indifference.
I honestly hope in time, I begin to appreciate the once-a-year holiday, the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. I hope one day I get to swim in a huge vat of eggnog, trot through a candy cane forest, and pick bouquets of mistletoe.
I’ll adorn my living space with festive decorations I can stare at all night. Maybe we’ll even get enough snow to make snowmen again a dear pastime that holds a special place in my heart. Ah, snowmen and snowball fights and sledding each and every outdoor experience heightened by the presence of subzero ice crystals that go down your shirt.
This holiday season was a good one, despite all of the above; it just wasn’t as big a deal as it always is. Christmas truly is a wonderful time of year, and I felt incomplete not basking in its glow of happiness. Holidays are becoming less paramount, but in retrospect, they were the foundation of much youthful bliss. And in the end, everything loses its charm, becomes lackluster, and dies a little.
It’s inevitable at best, and accepting it and then moving on is probably the best that I can do. I suppose that is my New Year’s resolution. Live life, make a copious amount of mistakes, learn my lesson and move on, taking the lesson I learned with me and applying it to anything I come up against in the near and far future.
This column is the opinion of Sophia Taeschner, a sophomore at Skyview High School.
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