The last real joyful Christmas I remember was probably either 1975 or 76, it might have been 77 but either way, that was a long freakin time ago. I remember this giant green and white bear, I was a little kid and this thing was bigger than me, maybe 4 feet tall, and I remember climbing all over it and playing with it and just feeling this joy and happiness. All the years in between I can’t remember feeling that personal joy, sure there was the happiness I felt watching my children open their gifts, sure there was the happiness at seeing the holidays come to life, but that personal feeling… that feeling that was more than just joy of giving, that feeling of unadulterated childhood happiness and joy was not there.
I wasn’t a Scrooge, but I could care less about my feelings all those years, I’d come to convince myself that my joy came from giving Christmas to my kids… it wasn’t until last year when Mony gave me what I truly wanted for Christmas that I felt that personal happiness, and even as grateful and happy as I was, it really wasn’t until now, this year that I truly felt that childhood, unadulterated personal holiday joy, that personal internal feeling of Santa on Christmas morning, the magic under the tree feeling children have… we have when we’re children and we are in awe and wonder of the magic.
Mony brought that to me this year, she brought back the magic I lost all those years ago… she brought me Christmas again, brought it back… She to me will always be Christmas, 365 days a year, she’s my Monyka Christmas.