We're trying to push through December but December keeps pushing back.
Scientists say that human brain activity associated with memory perception increases along with increased proton activity in the air, which is common on rainy days.
Either they're right or I just miss my family and friends lately.
Nostalgia, having no choice, having filled every other nook and cranny, invaded my dreams last night.
I awoke this morning fresh from a dream about rum balls. My mom made the best rum balls ever in the storied history of rum balls, which, if someone else hasn't already, I look forward to writing.
Assuming no outrageous surprise waits for me in the coming weeks, this will be the first Christmas I spend away from Indiana. Away from my dad. Away from my sisters. Away from Audrey's family. Away from tradition.
So I embrace the new.
Traditions are all invented by someone. Without whoever invented the original Barcio Family Christmas, I would not have the benefit of the melancholy I feel now, tugging me back to Christmases past.
Stoneycreek Farm, Christmas tree hay ride with my dad. Hot apple cider and hot chocolate. Monument Circle tree lighting ceremony downtown. Giant, plastic, toy soldiers lining the street.
A trip across the bay to Alameda Island yesterday confirmed what Audrey and I suspected all along: Christmas decorations look great on tropical plants.
We take a little bit of the past with us wherever we go and add it to whatever we find.
Our friends and neighbors back in Indiana who used to receive tiny packets of rum balls in their mailboxes will have to make other arrangements for awesomeness this year, a challenge I am sure they are up to.
Meanwhile, Audrey's all-organic version of Lillian's famous recipe will soon grace the about-to-be-delighted palates of hundreds of unsuspecting San Franciscans who don't yet know how lucky they are to have made our acquaintance.
Love leaves, and then there's a space to fill with more love. Mom's passing brought me deeper understanding of my dad and my sisters. Moving away again has brought us closer still.
Love anticipates. Love weighs its options. Love remembers.
That's Great! I had hoped "that your personal memories" would "make your Christmas special this year!"
ReplyDelete...so does this mean I have to make my OWN rum balls [sniff]? I struggle with nostalgia every year-- if I try to create new traditions, will the old ones be forgotten and will it lead to my own melancholy meltdown? Yes, love remembers.
ReplyDeleteI miss you.
Erin
There has been much talk of Audrey's rum balls... it was all filled with a longing seldom shared by so many. I'll miss those balls. Fuckit! I already miss them!
ReplyDelete