One part about living abroad that I find most unappealing is the holiday season. I used to love the holidays and forty-five boxes of decorations for Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter are sitting in storage. They have been patiently waiting to be rescued again with the adoringly loving reverberations that emerge from my inner child as I unpack them. There are reasons for not having them here. Multiple reasons as a matter of fact: 1). The cost of shipping, 2). No where to store them, 3). No one to show them off to. Yes, number three is the most pathetic, yet true. It is Ron and I period, zip, end of the list.
The majority of friends we have made over the years have returned from whence they came. Very few Hungarians are amongst our list of friends due to schedules, different lifestyles, and the list goes on. Hence, holidays are not berry merry, especially Christmas.
Feeling blue at this time of year is not only the pending holiday, but the temperatures outside. This has already been a a particularly cold December that rushed in on the heels of a moderate November. With a feeling that my inner child has been snatched by a Child Protective Services agency, I have tried to gobble on Christmas movies like a child who has been set free in a toy store with an American Express Platinum card in some stranger’s name. I am not certain if they are a positive aid or a negative encumbrance, but at least for 30 minutes to 1 1/2 hours at a time, I feel the holiday spirit. Here is my list.
Getting away for the holidays paves the way for getting through some of the winter while also white washing those days of Christmas youth when I thought holiday magic was everlasting.