Reminiscing

I don’t send holiday cards.

When I was younger, I used to. My dad had several brothers and sisters in the States so he would let me write some of the cards. My mom had friends in other cities, so I would help her out some too. I myself loved to go out and buy cards for my friends! Even though we saw each other everyday in class, it was the thing to do. Just like in Valentine’s day, you sent out cards to your loved ones. πŸ™‚

It was quite fun. I grew up in a small town and we only had a handful of shops, the cards were very limited but I could spend hours just looking for that one card that summed up perfectly what I wanted to say to my mom, my dad, my siblings, my friends, and especially that friend you liked but you hadn’t let on you liked him, and you wanted the card to subtly hint you liked him a little more than he thought. πŸ™‚

Wasn’t it a giddy feeling? That Christmas joy, the exquisite satisfaction of preparing handmade gifts and painstakingly handwriting cards… It seemed there were so many parties, events, and most of all, friends.

One of my most favorite memories was creating a Christmas parol made out of native materials. It was a group task, and my groupmates were my best friends Chris and Brian. We’d been so busy that we hadn’t time to create the parol, but we’d gathered all the materials – wood bark, shells, bamboo, etc. It was the day before submission of the parol, and we’d agreed to meet at my house to finish the parol. I was waiting at home, when the lights went out!! And it was raining so hard and heavy!! My poor friends arrived soaked to the bone and it was pitch dark outside!!! The poor things!!! I hastily ushered them in and lent them my clothes, and since all I had were girl clothes, I lent them my gender-neutral school shirts instead. To this day, I don’t think they ever returned them to me. Hahaha! We spent the entire night just working on that parol, and gossiping, in candlelight, with the storm brewing outside. And taking silly pictures with my old film camera. It was one of my most favorite nights. πŸ™‚ And the Christmas parol turned out beautiful, thank you very much! πŸ™‚

How I miss the sense of caring of the old days. Back then, it seemed I could feel so much more, love so much. Maybe because it was a carefree time, I could care so much more. Now, with all the stresses of work and bills, bills, bills, I think I’m spent. All out of care. That makes me feel so sad.

Someone teach me how to care again.

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