Done. Gone. Finito.
No, now it's back to real life. Real stories. No more "good will and cheer." No more people running out to buy the most expensive thing to show their love for another person. Now it's back to penny-pinching and a crashing economy, one that will freefall to depression by the end of 2009.
But for me, this Christmas meant something more. It was a sign of change in my family and personal life.
- My grandfather now lives with my parents and has taken over my old room. I no longer have my own personal room to go into and hide or rest away from the insane sounds of family. I am now forced to sleep on an air mattress in the den, without privacy.
- Christmas Eve, a time when both sides of my family get together, was rushed because my Uncle Jordan was late. My cousins were not even into the day - some there with their girlfriends and others just "there." They quickly left after the presents were distributed and open, without much talk amongst us. I feel like we (my cousins and I) grow further apart every year. It's sad.
- We now have to make a stop at the nursing home to visit my grandmother, who has Alzheimer's Disease. Granted, this was not the first year we have done this, but still - to get together in a cold hospital-like room with a woman who cannot speak and recognizes no one is very sad for me.
- Ever since I can remember, one Christmas morning tradition was for my dad to give several lottery scratch tickets to my mom and I to scratch and see if we would be the big winner. It was such fun, even if 1 out of 10 gave us a winner. The lottery tickets would also come in a card which was always great to read because my dad always gets those fancy, cursive-written cards that cost $4.99 but have outstanding messages. But, for some reason, this year he didn't do it. Not one lottery ticket.
Sometimes change is good because it encourages growth and adaptation. Sometimes that same change can be sad, as it erases old traditions and replaces them with awkward ones. Maybe I am too trapped in the past and need to fast forward to the future. But how?
It is now almost 12:00 AM Dec. 26. Time for the post-Christmas depression episode to settle in. I'll probably still listen to Christmas songs for another week or 2, until the Epiphany, though less and less every day. But this year, I am not sure if the symptoms may linger as I reflect on Christmases past knowing that traditions and altogether family unity has irreversibly changed.
