8 Minute Memoir, Day 1: I Remember When

2017 is going to be the year where I run a marathon *fingers crossed* and ride 100 miles on my bike at once.  2017 is also going to be the year where I get back into the habit and practice of writing.  Look, I can give you a million reasons (excuses) why I don't write now as much as I used to in the past but the reality is this-- I miss that part of me and I want to find her again.  The timing couldn't be any more perfect...  I found a copy of The 52 Lists Project at Barnes and Noble the other day and knew that it had to come home with me.  I'll be filling that journal out once a week for the duration of the year and I'm pretty excited about it!

I will also be making my way through writer Ann Dee Ellis' 8 Minute Memoir writing prompts  The idea here is to set a timer for 8 minutes and just write.  This should be an interesting project for me, something that will breathe a little bit of life into this blog.  Prompts are posted 3 times a week so I'll be trying to write here about that often.

Without further adieu... 8MM, Day 1: I Remember When

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I remember, when I was younger, the excitement and exhilaration and joy of Christmas Eve.  Traditions in play before I could even remember them; I have always been getting in the car and riding along to my grandpa's house--a route that even now I could trace in my sleep.  Being so happy to go and see family and eat food and open presents... it filled my heart with a feeling an emotion that then, and now, at 28, felt and feels like nostalgia (though I didn't realize it when I was younger, of course).  Even then I think I knew it wouldn't last forever.

The warmth of the house.  If we were lucky, there would be snow and everything would look so ethereal and dreamy, which only served to add to the atmosphere.  Inside the walls that Grandpa had built, there was conversation and laughter and coffee.  Dinner was a literal feast--homemade sausage (the great polarizer), Swedish Meatballs, potatoes, corn, veggies, rolls, oysters (no, thanks!) and dessert--the scents filling the house and bringing us all together.

There would be an interlude after dinner of cleaning up and my brother and I sliding down the stairs to the finished basement with whatever blanket or cushion we could find, bounding endless energy.  We, of course, wanted to open presents.  Often enough I would play the role of Santa, passing out various gifts to all of my relatives--which was, as it turned out, a good lesson in practicing reading comprehension.  Everyone so delighted in their gifts, feeling so loved, my brother and I often feeling like we had won the lottery.

Before long, everyone packed up their cars, kissed and hugged, and said goodbye--for now, anyway, as Christmas morning often involved a family breakfast at another relative's house.  As we drove home, I stared out the window--comfortable and delighted and safe, savoring and soaking up every spoonful of Christmas holiday magic.