Last Christmas

Way back when we started talking about having a child we thought we would announce it to our parents when they were together during Christmas. Those of you that know the long version of the story will laugh at how naïve we were then, and those that don’t, well, you just don’t want to know. Either way, that was some time ago.

So we’re coming up on the last ever Christmas we’ll have without our lima bean, and I have conflicted feelings about this. I have no idea how old my brother and I were, but all Christmas memories have blended into one simple storyline, peppered with specific moments that probably happened years apart. Wearing the Underoo pajamas with the padded feet. Sharing a bedroom. There was a small tree in our room with one present for us each so we could wake up early and give my folks a bit longer to sleep. I remember creeping down the back stairs thinking, “Santa listens to top 40?”. They’d be up wrapping presents, talking in hushed tones. There was the year Santa came down the fire escape in NY, but I could be remembering the photograph more than the actually moment.

Years go by, and the gifts change. Neighbors kid stops by to rant about all the toys he got before breathlessly throws out, “what about you?”. Books. A nice sweater. An electric eraser (Which, at the time was a kick-a** gift. I was in architecture school and needed one). Sure it lacks the panache of a football or laser tag, but I never had any complaints.

But from this point on, the next few years will most likely be baby-centric. All the effort will go into getting her creative and exciting stuff, and we’re all really looking forward to that. Somebody once said, “Birthdays are for getting stuff, but Christmas is for giving stuff”, which rings true to me. We struggle each year trying to find just the right thing to get people, knowing full well that if they really wanted ‘it’, they would just go get ‘it’. Buying presents for our child is going to be so very, very different. It'll be a constant battle not to spoil her rotten. One we may occasionally lose.

So before the holiday changes forever, it’ll be nice to have one last Christmas with just our little, quiet family. We’ll give/get books, slippers, gag gifts etc. Drink too much coffee, eat too much food. Probably sit around a fire and play hearts. Help out with dinner, stay up late sitting on the floor telling stories. Might even head outside when the dishes are done, claim the dog needs to walk. Walter and I could possibly find ourselves out in the snow, just a few yards away from the house, looking at the Connecticut sky. If I smoked, this would be a good time to light up, but I don’t. So we’ll just stand there for a bit perhaps until it gets too cold to take. Take one more deep breath.

Then we’ll head back inside.