![]() Nick and JT build a sandcastle on Christmas 2008. There was a double celebration for Jessica who was born on Christmas eve. Nick transformed from a fun loving pre teen to belligerent Nick when he imbibed too much Christmas spirits in his twenties. We even walked the Upstate New Yorkers to the beach a location no self-respecting South Floridian would visit in December. We spent hours playing games, savoring freshly baked cookies, and other good cheer. On Christmas eve, sod was being installed as our guests arrived. Full House For Christmasįor many years we hosted M’s parents, her sister, Marylou, and her children, Nick and Jessica. Ultimately, we both prevailed, although José’s method was much more efficient. He drove to the handful of stores advertising the console to find the shortest line. He had a much different approach to this quest. He was freshly showered and even stopped for a coffee. About an hour into this exercise, José, a good friend from the neighborhood, stops by me in his car. Arriving at the store, I saw a dozen sad looking dads, the kind of look of loss and bewilderment that one day you are eating, drinking, and watching all the football you want, and the next you are waiting in line for a store to open hoping to buy an item you don’t even fully understand. Driving to Toys r Us, now known as Toys Were Us, I ruminated on why the pilgrims started the tradition of waking up early the day after Thanksgiving to forage for the best twigs and berries they could find, only to give them to another person a few weeks laterm. I scraped myself out of bed around 5 AM feeling the effects of a tryptophan induced hangover. JT made it known that this was the only present he desired. The Nintendo gaming console was just released in limited quantities and was expected to be sold out weeks before Christmas. Black FridayĪs a dad, I participated in one Black Friday. I’m pretty sure my sister took part in these clandestine activities, but I don’t want to implicate her. As wrapped presents circled the tree, I spent hours shaking and manipulating the packages to discern their contents. Like many things in life, anticipating the gifts was better than receiving them. I’m pretty sure this was the only reading I did until middle school. ![]() Every day, I would study these books to create a wish list for Santa. These voluminous tomes contained seemingly endless pages of toys. When I was a child, Christmas started in late October/early November when the Sears Roebuck and JC Penny catalogs were delivered. Pretty heady stuff! The wounded world we live in needs the tenets of Christmas: Joy and thankfulness for all the blessings we’ve received Unequivocal love for each other and forgiveness to those who have wronged us. How beautiful is that? A God who humbles himself to share eternity with us. In his infinite love for us, God sent his Son who became human to bear all our sins. With so many distractions, a malaise of modern society, it is far too easy to lose sight of the true meaning of Christmas.įor Catholics, it is a time of joy celebrating the birth of our savior, Jesus Christ. The stresses of the holidays are further exacerbated by the latest rendition of COVID 19, the most unwelcome guest of all. To French Canadians, I’m somewhat less sorry.) Many people are busily finishing work, scurrying through malls searching for last minute gifts, preparing for guests, or toiling in TSA lines to travel to familial destinations. ![]() You just need to know it’s slightly warmer here. (I’m sorry, my Canadian brethren, I refuse to convert the temperature to your more sensical measurement scale. As the thermometer dipped into the 50’s with a bone chilling high of 75 in Miami today, my thoughts turn to Merry Christmas.
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