You can't get them back....

We’re 30. It’s December. And he asks me what I want for Christmas this year.  I laugh and say…

Oh, I don’t know.  Sleep. Silence.  Sanity?

He half smiles because we both know I can’t have that.

We’re in our 60’s now.  It’s December.  And he asks me what I want for Christmas this year.

I look at the tree, filled with handmade ornaments, now decades old.  They hang quietly, untouched.

I look at the lights, glowing across an empty floor.

No longer full of toy cars, Lego, and crumbs.

I recall the years when everything felt crazy alive.

The squeals at sunrise.

The torn open boxes.

The little voices yelling, “Mom, come see!”

I cry and say, “Oh, I don’t know.  Just one more Christmas when they were little?”

He half smiles because we both know I can’t have that.

And that’s when it hits me. I got everything I thought I wanted when I was 30.  

The days are messy, but the years are magic. And you can’t get them back.

Enjoy them.

Christmas is now a melancholy time for me.