
If there is anything in this world that resembles a time machine, it must be the magic of the Christmas season.
Just like clockwork, that lovable fat man came down our chimneys, or in my case, likely came through the sliding glass doors, to give us wonderful (and sometimes not so wonderful) gifts meant to remind us how important we are to be loved.
That’s what this season is all about, right? Loving and being loved. There is nothing better.
I find that as time goes on, Christmas seems to come and go faster than before. But it also feels sweeter than ever, and perhaps I appreciate it more given the shrinking and limited number of Christmases we all have left.
This year, I flew my daughter from South Carolina, and this is the first time in a while that all five of the kids (now adults) have been here for Christmas. It’s such a joy to have all the kids together under one roof again, and the madness, mayhem, and love that ensue.
All of this is just fodder for the real-life time machine that is Christmas. Of course, as with everything in this life, some of it is bittersweet.
It’s also a good time for me to remember those mainstays of Christmas, those reliable, consistent fixtures that are somehow no longer with us due to the betrayal of time. I think about my father-in-law, who has always been the entertainer, telling us the same marshmallow joke every Christmas — a joke I totally stole and use all the time. I think of my mother-in-law who sang her version of the lullaby “Run to Boston,” and who could entertain children — young and old — with her stories of show business or her latest alien conspiracies.
But most of all I think about my father. It’s hard to believe this is the third Christmas without the man who somehow made Christmas even more magical than it already was. He was the most generous person I have ever known, not only with his wonderful gifts and sweets but with his kindness and affection. When he asked how you were, really listen. He was present, truly present, and always so excited to hear about our accomplishments or dreams.
A toast to them and to all those missing from their Christmas dinners and New Year’s Eve parties: May they live forever in our hearts, and may we always have access to the goodness they represent to us, especially at this time of year.
Christmas, for me anyway, is the strongest reminder of the past and the best part is that those missing faces are always there. As the years go by, we erase the uncomfortable moments, the silly arguments, the times someone drank too much or anything else embarrassing. Why? I think it’s a defense mechanism, a survival tool we all need to navigate through the years. Imagine if we held on to every bad memory?
No, we focus on the good memories, the fuel we need to keep going.
Someone said on TV this week that Christmas was like a time machine for him, and I couldn’t agree more. The moment I start unpacking the boxes of tinsel, lights, and other decorations, I’m transported back to Christmases past: the sights, smells, foods, gifts, and people.
About two weeks ago, my mom gave me a bag. Inside were individually wrapped pieces of the family nativity that my father had purchased when my older sister was born 65 years ago. It is a beautiful hand painted porcelain complete with stable, angel and all the other regular items in the nativity. It’s so cool.
My wife asked me if I played with animals when I was a kid and I gave her a look of disbelief. This was not a game. This was something special, something to be cherished. No, we kids were never allowed to touch the pieces after my father recreated the nativity scene at the foot of our Christmas tree.
As I carefully unpacked each piece, I remembered the first Christmas I was old enough to help my father place the pieces under the tree. (My favorite was Three Kings) I remember how proud I felt at that moment. This feeling swept over me like a wave of nostalgia and love.
The time machine that is Christmas took me back to that moment. I (half) joked with my wife that seeing these Christmas pieces filled my heart with hot cocoa and little marshmallows.
I share these memories and feelings with sincere hope and hope that your holiday seasons, past, present and future, fill your heart with hot cocoa as well. Now, I’ll take some time off. I will see you again in January.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
Contact Torres on jtorres@floridatoday.com. You can follow him on X @jonalbertores Or on Facebook at facebook.com/FTjohntorres