Ever since I was a child, Christmas was celebrated in my family with a decorated tree in the living room, a wonderfully delicious turkey dinner, gifts for the children, and visits back and forth with extended family.
My favourite part of Christmas was the day we would spend with my grandmother, my dads sister and her husband. My parents and the other adults would sit and talk and drink those grown up drinks, and talk too much and too loud while me and my brothers would be working on a variety of colouring books, or punch out books or other things that kept us quite busy and oblivious. It was the only time where I ever ate cheese cake until I was an adult!
When I was about 5 years old I even crept down the stairs at some point in the night and actually saw Santa setting out gifts under our tree. Just a shadow, mind you, but I was so afraid that Santa would see me, I hurried back up the stairs - to this day I can still see my own feet stepping carefully up those stairs so the steps would not creak and give away my presence. I kept that secret for a very long time, until somewhere in my child mind I realized that what I saw, was in reality the Yogi Bear punching bag standing by the tree that turned out to be a 'gift' from Santa to my youngest brother. But I did still hope that it was Santa and I refused to really think about what the reality was.
May you all enjoy this season in the way that best suits you and makes you happy...
