My father had a wonderful habit that I adopted on this day. After dinner and we kids had gone to our rooms to read and fall off to sleep he would pour himself a cup of coffee and go sit in the living room and watch the Christmas tree. He may sit for at least an hour, and we never asked what he was thinking. We all knew this was his time and not to be disturbed.
I still wonder what he was thinking. Was he remembering a time when he was a young boy anxious about what Santa might bring? Probably not. He was a child of the depression where many stockings were bare. Was he going over the past year? Was he thinking about the future and what it would bring? He never said. My father’s era was a time where fathers didn’t talk to their children about their dreams, or much of anything. World War II was never discussed for example. Yet somehow I have an impression to this day that hour or so all alone with a decorated tree was special beyond description.
Do you do something special for Christmas that’s all yours?
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