"T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house...," you know the rest, right?
Will and I laid awake last night trying to recite T'was The Night Before Christmas, thinking of course we knew it. We both fell asleep struggling to remember where the "nose like a cherry" came in and when exactly Saint Nick "whistled and shouted and called them by name." We didn't quite have it right.
Just hearing a few of the rhymes, though, flood my mind with the old worn illustrations from my childhood book, and in my mind, Christmas is here.
My family always did an incredible job of making Christmas so special. I have memories of Advent, sledding down our big hill on 75th street at midnight, ICC choir concerts dressed in funny polyester uniforms (only to be trumped by even worse garb in high school), Katie and I (post consumption of all those little gold chocolate coins in our stocking) running like mad through ice covered, knee-deep snow drifts and the sound of our moon boots crunching over frozen leaves, knees buckling. Grilled bagels and PJs and reading the from the Bible. Pineapple Mango Lipsmackers, matching dresses from Chocolate Soup, red velvet hair bows, dancing at the Athletic Club with Grandpa Fred and Grandma Rosie, and begging for macaroons. Even after my parents divorced, they made a great effort to keep our family together during Christmas while Kate and I were young. My mind swirls with excitement for a new year.
Now Christmas is in my house, and finding those magical tid-bits to warm up the holiday and keep Christmas true to its meaning for the ones I love feels so important.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.