Merry Christmas, everyone! It’s been a while since I posted anything yet today I find myself with the luxury of time. It’s probably obvious to state that it’s been a rough year for most of us both professionally and personally, but I think I have definitely gained a good bit of perspective from it.
This is the first time in my 34 years that I have ever spent Christmas morning alone. Though there were no presents waiting for me under the Christmas tree (just a cat in the tree that I had to gently coax out), I was quite content to have my coffee and take a little time to reflect, especially considering some of the radical decisions I’ve made over the past few months. I’ve been looking through old pictures and making phone calls and in general just enjoying a trip down memory lane. It’s actually been quite nice.
Now in these pictures I’ve been rummaging through there are lots of shots of us opening presents year after year. I tried to remember some of those presents but even after 34 Christmas mornings I can remember very few of them. What I remember about the holidays is more visceral: sounds, smells, tastes, voices, music, singing, warmth, safety…
I remember the smell of Titi’s cigars and the sound his dominoes would make as they hit the table. I clearly remember the sound of Tata’s beautiful voice as she called, “Billy Boy!” as well as the warmth and comfort of her hugs. I also remember sitting in her kitchen watching as she fortified the Creme de Vie.
I remember the chirping-bird Christmas ornament that Abuelo delighted in plugging in for me because I really believed there was a bird hiding in that silver ball. I remember Tita playing the ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ album for Alyssa, Carlos and me over and over again, even though I know it drove all the adults crazy. I remember standing outside my grandparents’ house with Alyssa completely convinced that the plane in the sky was, in fact, Santa Claus. Okay, I was convinced too.
I remember Papi always picking out the best tree on the lot, and then somehow managing to negotiate a substantially lower price every single time. I remember decorating that tree with Carlos and Mom, singing the whole while through.
I remember singing in the Spanish Choir at CTK, standing on a chair because I was probably the smallest one. I remember playing bingo with the aunts and uncles in Juan Manuel’s and Siomara’s garage, so incredibly happy that they let me join the game. I remember some of my first suspicions about Santa Claus, when I noticed that he not only had the same handwriting as my mother, but he also used the same Smurf-themed wrapping paper. Hmmm…
I consider myself very lucky. I am part of the first-born American generation in the family. We were immersed in our own little bubble of Cuban life, while still growing up in an American world, and even better, in New Orleans.
So, if any of you are actually reading this blog, I’m curious to know what your fondest memories of Christmas are. Leave a comment.
