Friday, December 25, 2009

a quiet, rainy Christmas (lyn)

Despite celebrating Hanukkah, going to Hebrew School, and even being Bat Mitzvahed, Santa still came to our house every Christmas morning until I had outgrown my belief in him.

I remember being very young, and hurrying downstairs with my two sisters to check in front of the fireplace to see what Santa had brought us.  One Christmas we each received a three-foot tall Patti Playpal doll.  One survived and still lives in my parent’s home on the Cape, although she is missing a leg and looks more like Chucky from those 1980’s horror flicks than a companion for a three-year old, as she was meant to be. 

On those Christmases so many years ago, my father would record our excitement on a very large reel-to-reel tape recorder.  I believe those tapes still exist somewhere, but even if we were to find them, I have no idea how we’d play them.  Not too different, I guess, from the many VCR tapes I have of Alexander that I still need to convert to DVD’s.

Christmas today is nothing like it was growing up.  I typically spend it with friends watching movies, while my son celebrates the holiday with his grandparents in the Hamptons. 

Today, Carol and Robyn come over and we watch a couple of movies.  During the first movie, we snack on popcorn (I eat the 94% fat-free-butter-100-calorie unexciting version while my friends have the better tasting with-butter version) and candy (I eat none).   When the movie ends, we leave and walk over to the local pizza place where I have one and a half slices and a salad.  We then come back to my apartment and watch a second movie, this time with no snacks.

Not a lot of food today, not a lot of excitement.  But still, it is very nice being with good friends, sharing stories of our pasts and surprising each other with new revelations. 

I love the sound of falling rain, though tonight I wish it were the silent fall of snow.

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