There is always something magical about Christmas lights. Little pieces of electricity that always warm this stone-made block on the left side of my chest. Ok, it is technically in the center, but folk wisdom dictates that I should refer as such to this organ so essential to our mortality. As I was saying, Christmas lights have always had this effect on me. I am a cynical person. Long since I stopped believing in unicorns, the tooth fairy, and Humankind in general. Don’t get me wrong, I do believe in individual goodness, little fragments of compassion and altruism that we sometimes spread through our beloved ones and, sporadically, some strangers in the street, during the period of a lifetime. I do not believe, however, in Humankind as a benevolent being. As a whole, we are basically a piece of shit. Nevertheless, despite my profound disbelief in Humankind, Christmas lights have the power to bring me some form of joy and hope (could this be happiness?!). Eventually, life goes on, reality hits, and everything is the same old story. You would think that, for a cynical like me, one would be fooled once, maybe twice. Still, thirty-three times on a row, and here I am. I am always like a little girl, stunned by the lights, the streets, and all the Christmas hustle as if it was the first time. There is something, some energy, something different about Christmas lights.
I look around and I see the crowds searching for that last missing present. The sweater, the book, the new iPhone, and the bracelet for mom. Ah, the wonderful consumerism, that takes me to merry Christmas dinners, around a table full of food, with grandma and grandpa. None of them still has Alzheimer's or terminal cancer. Mom and dad, eternal valentines, not resenting at all one another for all the compromises and difficult choices that (invariably) one made more than the other, to keep this family united. And the children, all impeccably dressed, no ripped jeans or hats at the table! And always avid for a good conversation with the older generations. After all, they know that Christmas is family time. These are the kind of hopes and dreams that come with Christmas lights. Of course, we eventually go home, where the tree lights are off because grandpa forgot to buy batteries. Which doesn’t matter anyway, because it is time to feed grandma that is in bed sick, for almost a year, and does not recognize her grandchildren anymore. If only that lazy husband spent less time at the store drinking beer, maybe we would have time for a decent Christmas dinner. Fortunately, none of this matters because, after all, I got the new iPhone and I can’t wait for all the likes in the sad-dry-turkey picture I just posted on Insta. Thank God for filters!
#Christmas #familytime #IPhoneextraplusmega