We Were Young

I think this is the perfect time of year for a question like this. I believe I am still a kid at heart and the holidays bring it out in me. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s are heavy with nostalgia. Because, despite the memories of trauma from my childhood outnumbering the good, holidays when I was young are mostly happy memories. And as I experience them now as an adult, remembering how I celebrated them in my youth makes me feel that same warm, childlike feeling.

When I was in Chicago with my sisters last month, I went through the box of family pictures my mother had left behind. I took about a gallon sized ziploc bag worth of photographs home with me.

Here are some pictures that I found that put that pang in my heart when I look at them:

Halloween

My mother was always so crafty with my costumes. The year I was a witch, all she needed was some black yarn for a wig, a black trash bag for the dress and construction paper to create the embellishments for the dress. Also, I was that kid…organized at a young age, insisted on sorting my candy after an evening of trick-or-treating. As an adult, passing out candy to kids coming to my door keeps me involved in the holiday even without kids of my own. For years I attended the Fall Festival at the school where I taught. I often wore a costume to recapture the fun of doing that as a child. Plus, the students always got a kick out of seeing their teacher dressed up.

Thanksgiving

I don’t have a picture of Thanksgiving that’s easily accessible, but there is one artifact from that holiday that I’m going to have to get out of the attic soon. When I was in the 2nd grade, I made a turkey in art class out of a paper lunch bag stuffed with newspaper. There were multiple colored sheets of tissue paper cut out and glued on for the feathers all over the bag. And a brown piece of construction paper was shaped and attached for the head, with a piece of red tissue paper glued on for the gobbler. My mom put that turkey in the middle of our table every Thanksgiving after that. And I do mean every Thanksgiving. When she and my father divorced and she moved in with my aunt, it was on the table. Even after she and my father re-married, the turkey was there. I borrowed it from her one year so I could show the students in my after school arts & crafts club. They each made one of their own that year. I made sure to mail it back to her in time for Thanksgiving.

I’m grateful that she randomly decided to give it to me a couple years ago. I don’t know why. But I’m happy to have it back. It will grace our table this year.

And that’s the thing about being a kid at heart. It’s keeping, or at least remembering traditions from your childhood. Bringing them with you into your adult life.

Christmas

There are so many aspects to Christmas that were great when I was a kid–listening to every Johnny Mathis Christmas album while decorating the tree or making cookies. I can’t tell you a single non-Christmas song that he sings. But I sure can tell you all about a marshmallow world and Christmas being a feeling in your heart.

Christmas is also 24 hours of “A Christmas Story” on Christmas Eve. It’s driving 10 hours to Cleveland to meet the original cast of the movie because they were so much a part of your Christmases growing up. It’s also touring the house where the movie was filmed and being completely awe struck by seeing the iconice set and the actual props used in the movie.

Christmas was also the tree, with the excessive amount of tinsel my mom piled on every year and then wishing we didn’t have cats and dogs that would eat it so I can’t put it on our tree now.

It’s also sitting on the floor with my sisters to open presents and then sitting on the floor with my husband every Christmas morning to open our gifts to each other.

Being a kid at heart is doing those things you did back then because it makes you feel that similar kind of happiness. There’s familiarity and comfort in that.

We’re grown up, but we can still play, we can still do those same things. Granted, sitting on the floor too long makes it harder and more painful to get back up, but the sentiment is there.

Being a kid at heart helps us not grow old as fast. There’s a difference between being old physically and being old mentally. Our bodies might not cooperate as well as they did when we were young, but as long as our minds still do, we’ll never truly grow old.