Saturday, December 20, 2008

Ghost of Christmas Past

After a fitful night of attempting to get to sleep, I dozed off and on till I finally gave up and started the day. While laying there, my mind would wander, I would find myself remembering the many Christmases spent with family and friends that are no longer here. It seems like a life time ago, almost like some other person's life. Recalling all those times spent with people you loved and cared for is very melancholy. You don't quite fill empty but neither do you feel filled up with life. I honestly can only remember just a few gifts that stand out over the years, but a recall almost every detail of the gatherings. Who sat or stood where, the music that was playing in the background, who left early or showed up late or didn't show at all, the decorations, the weather, who was doing the most talking, flirting or who the wallflower was. To me these gathering with family and friends are precious, cherished things, that I never want to forget. I'm glad I blog about them. Maybe when I'm old and my memory fails, someone will be kind enough to read them to me. Yes, it feels almost like an other's life that I recall, maybe even several different ones given the dramatic changes I've endured. Despite it all, I wouldn't have missed any of it for the world. Those ghost of Christmases past mean too much to me. They shaped who I am today, for better or worse. Occasionally, I feel like they are still here, watching and talking amongst themselves as they critique the life I now have. I hope I have honored them in some way and that they know how much each one of them meant to me while they were alive. If they can can hear me, "Merry Christmas y'all. I love and miss you!"

1 comment:

Lemuel said...

One of the holiday songs that I have the most trouble listening to is The Carpenter's cover of "I'll Be Home for Christmas". Karen does a marvelous job of singing my memories. Since I met my wife, one of the prices I paid was the end of Christmas with my family. Her family does it so much differently. The Christmas after my mother died - 1988 (the last of my parents) - I sat on Christmas day and heard that somg playing. There would be no more Christmases as I knew them growing up, but every year I go home for Christmas "if only in my dreams". Merry Christmas, Dave.

Dream Weaver Hit Counter
Hughes Net Satellite Internet