My sister and I confronted a realisation on Christmas eve night, as we watched the fourth xmas movie of the day, slurped hot chocolate and engaged in the yearly read of 'The Night Before Christmas'. We realised that our alternative excitement for the big day intensifies as we age. When establishing (though still reluctant to admit) that the fat, red-suitted, white-bearded man from the North Pole isn't quite as 'real' as I had once hoped, there is an inkling of magic that becomes removed from Christmas. Happy to coincide with the buzzing spirit of the kids in my family when wishing for glorious presents off Santa Claus, I thrive off their christmas 'spirit' to satisfy my urge to maintain this magic. But with this realisation came the agreement that Christmas has become increasingly important for traditions besides those which we harboured as children.
As I get older, and increasingly more nostalgic, I find greater pleasure each year in adorning my wonderful family and friends with gifts, perfectly apt for each of them. Though the mince pie and carrot may not be left by the fireplace, as I saunter to my bed on Christmas Eve, every other aspect of the season becomes more magical through appreciating those I have around me at this time of year. Each gulp of warm drink, scent of Turkey and acquirement of fluffy socks are 100% more exciting once Christmas is approaching. I suppose once the 27th arrives (and I establish that it has by literally needing to console a calendar) I begin a state of mourning for my favourite time of year. There may be no more gingerbread houses, Home Alone on repeat or casual evening cheeseboards (yeah right), but I bid farewell to Christmas with some beautiful gifts (popping up here shortly), a still bloated stomach (I can't remember a life before this feeling) and, most importantly, some incredible memories.
Christmas has changed in many ways as I've grown up but I'm starting to realise that this can be for the better. As I cracked open the vino on Boxing day and commenced a game of Drenga with my family ('drunk Jenga' apparently), I became substantially drunk for the first time ever at Christmas. I exchanged so much laughter between the man who became my brother-in-law this year and watched my younger sister (and best friend) begin to truly bond with the man in my life. Little details like these are why Christmas continues to be the most wonderful time of the year. Oh and with unlimited biscuits and crackers to cure a hangover, my transition back into reality as I return to the university library, has been made far more
Hope you all had a cracking Christmas.
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