My Best Christmas Memory, memoir by Tim Law at Spillwords.com
Chris Benson

My Best Christmas Memory

My Best Christmas Memory

written by: Tim Law

 

I remember it like it was yesterday, so just like yesterday some of the details are a little bit hazy while others are crystal clear. I can see myself sitting on the floor in Grandma’s house, the electric heater is off and Christmas carols are playing through the radio in the kitchen.
I’m young, maybe seven or eight, and I have a strong feeling we have travelled from country Kapunda that morning, though the details of the drive are the haziest thing of all. Is Ricky the dog, our little Australian Terrier running around in Grandma’s backyard, of that I can be sure as sure. Sitting on the lounge room floor I can see Grandma with her wispy white hair sitting in her comfy armchair, coffee cup in hand. On the couch are my mum and dad, smiling down upon me and my brother. Josh unwraps a gift and squeals with glee, at four or five any gift is exactly what you have always wanted. As I felt the pangs of jealousy creeping up on me I reached out to accept my own gift.

It’s big. I remember that. Almost as big as me. I tear at the paper, no thought of environmental issues, only my desire to discover what it is that Santa has brought me. I echo my brother’s cry of pure joy, it is a Voltron! My favourite cartoon, all the craze at that moment, the black lion, the leader, then I see that there is the blue, red, yellow, and green lions too… The whole set! My eyes grow wider as my parents and my Grandma hand me other gifts. They are the accessories that accompany the coloured lions that then join together to form the giant space warrior who defends the universe.

I unwrap all five pilots, the weapons, attachments, the works. It does not cross my mind to ponder how did Santa and my family know exactly what each of them was giving me. It was perfect. The greatest gift. The greatest Christmas. A moment of pure euphoria that has lasted a lifetime.

Now I get to see the same moments experienced by my kids, and now my young nieces. The joy, the innocence, the purity of belief. And so the circle of the Christmas Myth continues.

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