Monday, December 24, 2012

the weight

Many families have Christmas traditions.  Some families open presents on Christmas Eve.  Some wait until morning.  At our house, we’d wait.  See, Santa always made late-night special deliveries.  We'd awaken to open treasures unseen before Christmas morn…
But on Christmas Eve, my parents would allow my sisters and me to open one present.  Just one.  It was the best part of the night!  After delicious dinner and before boring church.  Of course I'd have already picked out the "best" present to unwrap HOURS before. 
I'd use a very scientific method:  The one that felt the heaviest. 
One year a large box mysteriously appeared early in the evening.  It surprised me.  I’d only taken my eyes off the Christmas tree when I closed them to sleep!  Suddenly, there it was!  Beaming beneath the lighted tree.  I just needed to feel it without my parents seeing me…
So just as the Aunts and Uncles arrived in their church clothes, holding their polite gifts…
                     ...I picked up the box and shook it!             
                                              THUMP!  THUMP!!  THUMP!!! 
                                                                               :::GASP:::  
 
It’s to me, from my parents… 
IT’S GOT TO BE THAT VIDEO GAME CONSOLE!
I immediately shoved the present back under the tree… just in time to greet the arriving family members. 
Don’t look suspicious.  Just act normal.  Just be cool.  Calm.  Collected.
Casual.
That seemed impossible now.
I didn't even hear what Aunt Barbara and Uncle Jay said as they squeezed the Merry Christmas out of me.  I'm quite sure it had something to do with how handsome I was/How much I'd grown since the last time they saw me/How they remembered when I...  blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, BLAH!
 I didn't care.  All I could think about was that present! 
Then Grandma and Grandpa arrived, and the whole ritual repeated all over again. 
"Look how handsome you are/How much you've grown/I remember when you..."  
This was torture! 
And just when I thought Greetings of Yuletide Cheer were complete, my Oma and Opa opened the door, and we were back on the “Merry Christmas”-Go-Round!  Kisses.  Hugs.  Kisses.  Hugs.  Spin.  Repeat.
It would be another 53 minutes and 13 seconds before I FINALLY got to hug the only thing I really cared about…
MY PRECIOUS! 
Dinner was a blur.  I was completely obsessed with opening that present.  I think somebody said grace.  I pretend prayed.  Eyes closed as cover. 
Why should I pray?  MY prayers had already been answered!
Obviously, I ate all my vegetables.  My parents didn't even have to ask!  ANYTHING to please them.  They were saints!  I said, "Please," and "Thank you,”  and finished my whole plate.  We were all going to church at midnight, and no one wanted to get too full and fall asleep.  I couldn’t fall asleep even if I wanted to!  I waited patiently to be excused.  I couldn’t sit still.  I was anxious.  I was antsy.  I WAS AMPED!!
MY TREASURE! 
I just wanted to rip into that present right then and there, skip church, and play with my game all night!  Until the sun came up!  Me and Santa, battling head-to-head!  Mom serving us muffins in the morning... 
BEST.  CHRISTMAS.  EVER. 
And maybe it was.  After all, I still have what I got from my parents that night.  And I still use it all the time…
But it’s not the video game console.  It wasn’t even a game.
When I finally tore into that present, I was crestfallen.  My heart sank.  I thought my parents had tricked me.  They started laughing at me!  I could feel the blood rushing to my ears… then the big, wet tears… 
THIS ISN’T WHAT I WANTED?  I HATE THIS!           
Later, as I sat in that painful pew at Midnight Mass, I prayed that tomorrow would FINALLY be the day for me…
Prayed for Santa’s Late-Night Special Delivery Service to come through…
Prayed to TRANSFORM THAT DUMB OL’ DICTIONARY I had opened into…
MY INCREDIBLY VICIOUS VIDEO GAME!! 
Please, God?  PLEASE!?  PLEASE!!   
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzz...  I prayed so hard I finally fell asleep on my mother's shoulder.  My sleepy saliva, like translucent tinsel decorating our Christmas sweaters….
In the end, I had no need to ask for God’s help.  I was lucky enough to be born with wonderful parents who spoiled me on Christmas. 
I got it.
But ask me if I still have that AWESOME-MOST-INCREDIBLY-VICIOUS VIDEO GAME… 
Nope.  I outgrew it by the 9th grade.  Sold it at a yard sale with some stuffed animals... 
But that Dumb Ol' Dictionary helped me all through middle school.  All through high school.  All through college. 
All through graduate school…
And I couldn't have made it (or this) without it!