Deck The Halls

In an odd way, I have been thinking about Dickens. Not because my anglophile loving self wants to loll about in some wonderful Victorian London traditions and relive the days of yore, but rather because this season always makes me a little bit nostalgic. I guess I am one of tho

se who likes to think about the figurative ghosts of Christmases past, present and future versus the actual as conjured up by Mr. Dickens himself.

Christmas past has always been wonderful to me. I have been lucky enough to be surrounded by family and when I really needed it, Christmas celebrations have always reminded me that I am blessed to have come across so many wonderful people in my travels. I can think of any number of stories, but none seems more apropos than making merry in a pub, meeting someone I fancied and being lucky enough to not be so sotted that I could not also meet a couple of new people I wanted to call ‘friend’. I also remember being entertained and being rather entertaining as well, but then again, all in the Christmas spirit. And I even remember echoing those immortal words once more “he held my hand’ to a friend far away as I tried to explain what was completely magical about all the merry moments.

Christmas present feels a bit unknown. Just three days away and I may know what I doing and who I will be spending my Christmas day with. I even know that the day after Chr

istmas (or Boxing Day as the rest of the world likes to call it) will be spent hunting down some wonderful bargains on all the things I may need next year but Christmas present still feels a bit that. Like a present. Something I have to unwrap before I am truly sure whether I want to keep it or return it. I have been a bit disappointed at friends who are near, and yet seem further away. And at the same time, I am taken aback by people I have known for ag

es, and who seem to surprise me in every moment. So I am not sure what to make of this Christmas present, but if I must make something of it, it will be grand.

And Christmas future! Ah, the twinkle that appears in my eyes. I

can imagine this more clearly than anything that it now or has gone before. Maybe because it is yet to be scripted, or perhaps because I know what I want most in my heart, I know what Christmas future will be. It will be old world and it will be snowfall. It will be forests and highlands and accents that are not my own, no matter how much I try to or inadvertently copy. It will be quaint and it will be city and it will be still, but most of all, it will be glorious because it will be everything I always wanted and everything I could have wished. And most of it, it will be surrounded by family and friends, as it always was, as it is and as it should be.