Am I too young to be feeling nostalgic around Christmas time? Sometimes I can feel as though I am so incredibly old, although not at all wise... which is one of the only upsides to aging that I can see.
I spent Christmas and Boxing day in Vancouver, visiting family. We started at my Oma and Opa's house (dad's parents), migrated to my aunt and uncle's (dad's sister), and then made the long drive to my Omi's apartment(mom's mom).
In each place I was repeatedly reminded of the increasing age of those I have always known and loved. With no cousins, my brother and I are the youngest in our immediate family, with the next youngest already in their 40's.
I was looking around the table and thinking, "What are we going to do once their gone?" Christmas for me has always been about sharing food and laughter with these people... but as their mortality becomes more and more clear (aches and pains), I'm forced to realize that we won't be together forever.
There was one point during Christmas dinner that we went around the table and shared a memory of Christmas from when we were younger. I thoroughly enjoyed hearing the stories of those in their 80's who grew up in Germany, Austria, and the Ukraine; Christmas was so different for them... more like it should be. And when my turn came around I realized that when I am their age, looking back at my childhood, it will be these people and their stories that I'll be talking about with an ache in my heart. This loud, eccentric crowd of Germans, always shouting over each other, always speaking half the time in a language I don't understand. It will be dinners like the very one I was eating that I will remember with longing, and traditions like the one's we kept that I will make sound so delightful.
And so I realized that someday, these Christmases that are so beautiful and full of warmth, love, and belonging will be just a memory, foggy remembrances that I will try to cling to and recall as much of as possible. Of course, they will be replaced with traditions that are just as beloved and people who are equally as cherished, and life will go on. Just as it always does.
Maybe one day I'll sit at the head of the table as the matron of a family and talk about what Christmas was like when I was a girl. Some teenager down at the other end of the table will be playing with her fork in an attempt to stay awake, and I'll smile one of those secret smiles that old people seem to favor, knowing.
Strange little life we live, isn't it? So short, so perfect.
