christmas musings

I love the days leading to Christmas Day. Friends hugging you back, gifts and more hugs, sincere greetings and warm wishes. However, I hated Christmas Day as long as I can remember. Because every Christmas Day, people I don’t even know show up in front of the gate, act as if they know me and my family. I dislike these people because they only remember my mother and father every Christmas. I see them once a year, every Christmas, they bring with them kids who kiss my mother’s and father’s hands like they’re all my parents’ godchildren. They ask questions, pry, talk nonsense, ask about our jobs - more than enough to send me and my siblings upstairs in our rooms, holed up until the guests leave.

This afternoon, while opening countless bottles of mayonnaise, my mother told me that when she was a little girl, no one would give her gifts. They were so poor that my grandmother would spend Christmas Day in Divisoria, selling goods. My mother would be turned away by her own relatives and her own godmother doesn’t give her gifts. Every Christmas Day, she would welcome people, give them gifts and feed them, listen to their stories, gossip. She’s giving them the kind of Christmas she missed when she was a child. The kind of Christmas she and my father made sure their children never missed. I am thankful. This has been a year full of difficult decisions and tearful goodbyes and uncertain beginnings. Nevertheless, it’s been blessed with wonderful surprises. Merry Christmas everyone!