Well folks, it's here. In a couple of short hours I will hit the sack, soon to awaken on Christmas Eve morning. For those who may not know (although I don't see how, I've been proclaiming this fact since before Thanksgiving) Christmas Eve is my most favorite day of the year. No, not Christmas day, but Christmas Eve. The wonderment and excitement the day holds has always been something I've loved from the time I was a toddler up to today. Call me weird, childish, or even a little obsessed, but come tomorrow morning this twenty-one year old will no longer be a young adult but a boisterous and anxious single digit aged child.
Growing up, I held such anticipation for Christmas Eve that the day before December 24th couldn't go unnoticed. Me and my younger brother proudly proclaimed December 23rd as Christmas Eve Eve. You read that correctly, the typo was purposely placed. The Eve before Christmas Eve. The night before Santa was to come. I don't know why, but even in the present I still refer to today as the creative title my little brother and I innocently conjured up. Nothing special ever happened on this day nor does it continue to. No traditional seance is delivered or sacrificial pigs are roasted (that's only on Thanksgiving). It just helps build up the anticipation (like we need more of it).
I guess the reason I love tomorrow so much is because it is filled with such memories and traditions. Every year is the same and, although I stated in my very first post that I hated routines, this particular habit is just fine with me. I remember as if it were yesterday: waiting my turn for the shower (we all claimed 30 minute blocks of time throughout the day, I preferred the 12:30-1 p.m. time frame), waiting patiently for the curlers to warm up so my mother could do my hair along with my other four sisters', getting dressed in my parents' closet, darning the dress I most likely pitched a fit about wearing causing my mom to grow a few premature gray hairs, arriving to mass one hour early to secure a few pews to accommodate our rather large family, singing carols throughout the church service to the best of my ability, anxiously waiting for church to be over so we could get to Grandma's, returning home for five minutes to load up the suburban with homemade macaroni and cheese and any other dishes my mother had prepared for our Christmas Eve meal with all 50+ family members (now 70+), and finally arriving at our destination, 3904 Milton street. Home to the proud owners of my grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph V. Darilek. Upon arriving to the house, we help unload presents and food and enter into the boiling hot living room (my grandparents have this thing with the heater) where we enter into a fifteen minute hugging and kissing frenzy. After the presents are nestled under the tree (along with about 50 others), we grab a coke or sprite (beer for the adults) and talk until our ears fall off. The men gather in the den to watch the football game, the girls travel into the living room surrounding the one couch to talk about God knows what, and the aunts and my grandmother get busy in the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner. The dinner table is set for 30-40+ and stretches from one end of the house to the other, we eat in two shifts, buffet style, kids go first, and then the adults (who have their plates cleaned up for them by the young girls and served dessert). Soon the kitchen is clean and everyone crams together in the den, the football game now off and the youngest sitting indian style on the floor (last year was the first year I got a chair!).
The bible is read. Although dozens and dozens of gifts are resting neatly under the tree, we make sure to never forget the reason why we are all gathered together in one room. One person is always chosen to read the passage of the birth of Jesus and every year the power of the message always gets to me and I become overwhelmed...what a joyous occasion!
Then, its time to rip into the gifts. Everyone receives one gift from their godparent and one from Grandma and Grandpa, but don't be fooled, these gifts are special in their own way. No one expects anything flashy or expensive underneath the cedar tree (cut down specially by my grandfather from the bustering town of Moulton, TX). Last year one of my cousins received a roll of toilet paper and i got underwear detergent. There are many gag gifts, arousing much laughter, and to me that is one of the best parts about the evening. My family doesn't need material things to enjoy the holiday, all we need is each other and a sense of humor.
Eventually the night winds down, thank you's are given and family pictures taken. The car is reloaded and we begin the long drive home. In years past, this drive consisted of a short 4 blocks, now it entails 112 miles. None the matter, it's all the same to me. We arrive home late, my dad usually puts the pork loin in the oven to begin its roasting process, and everyone heads to bed...everyone except me. I could never sleep on Christmas Eve and age has brought on no change.
Reading over all this, I realize that none of this may seem very special to others, but to me its everything. I've always been a lover of life's simple pleasures and an evening filled with family and laughter is the best gift I could ever receive. Tomorrow will be no different from years past. I have no doubt that it will be enjoyed by all and I most certainly can't wait to see Jordan tomorrow evening for the first time since the 15th! It will be his first time staying over on Christmas Eve night and we plan to stay up late and watch Meet Me in St Louis (since I can never sleep anyway), my most favorite movie.
I hope everyone out there, friend and enemy, will have a blessed, safe, wonderful and Merry, Merry Christmas!
Til then,
Love and Joy come to you :)
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