That Little Voice

The silence soothed me, no taxis, no pedestrians, just my doglets and me wandering the streets of San Miguel de Allende early on Christmas Day 2021.

The city was late in awakening and I was left to welcome my 79th Christmas by myself in the quietness of a new dawn.

Seventy-nine Christmases, and most not remembered. Of course, there were special ones: the year Santa delivered my first bicycle, or the excitement I felt when I saw that special doll I wanted sitting under the tree, the last Christmas celebration with my husband? How about that year I spent Christmas day on the ninth floor of an empty hotel in Puerto Rico, alone, staring out the window at the beautiful water of the Caribbean wondering what I was going to do for the next six days?

Yes, I do recall some of those festivities, but truthfully, not all 79.

What did I do every year? Where was I? Who was I with? What gifts did I give or receive? The answers are locked in the memory closet of my mind, inaccessible, forgotten, and lost.

I recall the sugary candy we made, the turkey we cooked before realizing it was spoiled and had to be replaced with spaghetti and peanut butter sandwiches, and the Christmas the door of our travel trailer fell off into a pile of falling snow in the mountains of New Mexico.

When I put my mind to it, I do recall more of those special days than I thought I could, but not all of them. But there is no doubt that I recall the feelings Christmas inspires.

The music, the pageantry (even in a midst of a pandemic), the colored lights, the fake icicles thrown on the freshly cut tree, and the fuses that had to be replaced when those lights switched on. The memories linger and continue leaving me smiling and often laughing at how many unexpected incidences seemed to always happen on Christmas days.

But this year, I’ll remember. I spent the morning with friends and new acquaintances, laughing, listening, telling, sharing and of course eating, before I joined another group of friends for a late afternoon meal at an empty restaurant having delightful conversations over an Italian meal of pumpkin ravioli.

Yep, an unusual Christmas this year, but actually, aren’t they all? Some are with family, some are not. Some are with friends, some are alone. Some bring tears, most bring smiles. But each is unique, highlighting a time in our lives, and another collection of memories that hopefully I’ll remember longer than most of the 78 ones that went before.

I hope your Christmas was filled with joy, peace and an abundance of new memories for you to recall as we begin a new year.

Happy 2022 folks.