As a kid, yes even in California, the winter was always a special time of the year. In fact, when I was a kid back in the 80’s, I remember it snowed once at my house. Yes, you heard that right, It SNOWED in sunny California at my Westlake village home. That would never happen now, but we did actually have winter here once upon a time… on occasion.
I made a mini snowman on top of my mom’s car that year. It was amazing and the only time that ever happened where I grew up. It used to hail a lot in the winter as well. I used to collect cups of it and keep them in the freezer as if they were little magical beads of ice.
The most magical part of Christmas for me was my parents. My dad has this thick piece of felt and on it are three giant silver bells. His home, now a two-story house, was a small one story home when I was a kid. My dad and mom were really good at creating that Christmas magic. On Christmas eve, my dad would climb onto the roof and yell, “HO HO HO!” For myself and all of the neighborhood kids. Mind you, this was way before the internet and being able to “track Santa” on Google Maps. My dad would stomp on the roof above my bedroom, run down the stairs and into my room (where my mom would be sitting with me) whilst I would be freaking out. this went a little something like this… Me: “Did you hear him? Santa is here!” of which my dad would reply, “I just spoke to Santa, he said he will come back when you are asleep. He won’t stay if you are awake.” This prevented me from ever wanting to catch him or see him. This girl wanted her presents and wasn’t about to risk that from happening. I would close my eyes tightly, trying my hardest to fall back asleep. The next morning I would run out to see what he brought, filled with Christmas excitement. This is why I believed in the magic (Probably longer than I should have) but it is all thanks to my amazing parents.
My house celebrated both Christmas and Chanukah. Even when my parents split up, even when I learned the truth, part of me always held onto the wonderment of the Holidays.
When my beautiful niece and nephew were at that magical age, I got to shake the bells while my dad yelled, “HO HO HO” when they would visit for Christmas. Seeing their wonderment made the Holiday magic alive again.
That is what I love most about this time of year. The magic. Real or not, there is magic in family. There is magic in love and there is happiness in the fairytale of it all.
Here is to a wonderful Holiday season. I hope yours is filled with magic and above all, love.