As a wife who lives with a bonafide scrooge, my excitement for Christmas has dwiddled these last few years. Its not that my husband hates Christmas, he just doesn't "get it". Growing up in as practicing Johova Witnesses, Christmas wasn't celebrated. For my family, Christmas wasn't a religious celebration but more about tradition and being with family. The magic of Christmas for me was having my father home and participate in our family activities, getting the Christmas tree, going to see relatives and my all time favorite, was singing Christmas carols all the way home! The magic also was the possibility of anything! Whether it be a new bike under the tree or getting to lick the batters from the cookie batches.
After divorcing Christmas became more of a chore, the custody split and running here and there just to see my children, the anxiety over what Santa would bring them at each house and how it would compare. It began to lose its magic and take on a more materialistic greedy grin. Once I met my husband, my outlook really didn't improved. I would be happier if Christmas came only every 5 years. The magic for me has been lost.
But yet, yesterday I saw a glimmer of hope for the magic to be revitalized and maybe, just maybe our angel will show daddy the other side.
I Live With These People: A Photo Series
1 year ago