Christmas in April

The following sentimentality is brought to you by the most recent (in NZ) Grey's Anatomy. They're starting the Christmas season -- not meaning that it was The Christmas Show (all shows have 'em), but just starting to allude to Christmas spirit.

I've always loved Christmas. And if you recall from many posts from last year, I have only loved it more as the years go on. The older you get, the busier, the more distracted, the more distant (physically, emotionally, etc), you realise that times like Christmas are pivotal. It's a time for grounding; reminding yourself who are, where you came from, and who is important to you. Everyone gets a little cheerier, a little more lenient, a little more humane.

When I was little, I loved Christmas morning for all the obvious reasons. I dig presents. I also dig the quiet time with my family with the smell of coffee and the sound of Christmas music in the background. It's just lovely. I used to have fleeting hopes that all year long could feel like Christmas morning. If only! But. Christmas Day gets more and more hectic itself. Again, with the age and responsibilities, it becomes more a to-do list than a fun time of enjoyment.

As this episode of Grey's closed, it has some key main characters lying on the floor, heads underneath and looking up into a Christmas tree. When asked why, Izzy said, "Lights." Perfect. Seriously, perfection. I now want everything to be like Christmas Eve. You're happy because you have so much to look forward to and you've enjoyed the holiday so much. It's dark all around with twinkling lights all around to remind you for that little moment that you're in a warm house on a cold night with family and friends. There's the feeling that most of the country (if not world) is sitting around having some sort of similar communal feeling of humane warmth.

I know it's April. I know I don't like to wax poetic in this blog. I know it's most likely another example of me falling prey to the marketing of sitcoms and commercial holidays. But for a minute, think of your favourite Christmas Eve: try and tell me it wouldn't be a nice permanent feeling.

Lights.