I must confess Christmas holidays was a
time I literally hated. I never enjoyed it, as a matter of fact,
during most of my childhood I was scared of Christmas and New Year's
celebrations, and later when I became a teenager it became a time of
very uncomfortable decisions.
The main reason why I was scared of
Christmas was the fireworks. There were two kind of them that I was
particularly scared of, the first one is known in Colombia as carpeta (meaning literally: a folder). This was a small amount
of gunpowder wrapped in paper in the shape of a triangle. Once
ignited it exploded with an incredibly loud BANG! The second one of
these scary things was called volador (meaning: flier). This was
a rocket that exploded in the air with multiple BANGS! There was
absolutely nothing pretty about them, no colorful lights to awe the spectators, just one loud horrifying bang. Well, my gentle
soul was terrified of such type of fireworks and during Christmas
there were more carpetas and
voladores that could
be exploded in one single night. Every single Christmas my drunk
uncle came home with bags full of those, and there they went happily
to blow these things up at the balcony for hours until sunrise. I had
not choice but to find the most distant and dark corner of my house
to hide terrified of the incessant explosions. Until this day the
smell of gunpowder still sends shivers through my back and set me on
alert, ready to take flight.
As I
grew older and became a teenager I might have been able to tolerate
the fireworks better, but with it came an equally displeasing
discomfort. My parents separated when I was still a baby, and during
most of my childhood I spent the holidays with my mother and her
family. When I became a teenager my father returned to my hometown,
at least during holidays, so I was put in the awkward situation of
having to chose with whom I wanted to spend the holidays: with my
dad's family or my mom's family. This was terribly uncomfortable for
me because even though I had a choice, I knew that my mom didn't want
me to go with my dad's family. She never said it but I could
clearly feel it. On the other hand, I didn't get to see my dad so
often so he expected me to spend the holidays with him. It was
extremely uncomfortable having to decide whether I was going to be on
Christmas Eve with one family or the other one, without hurting
anyone's feelings. It was never easy, and that completely ruined my
holidays every time. Nowadays
that I have been living in Europe, I have had the chance to spend very
peaceful Christmas. And even though I wish I could spend it with
both my mom and dad, and even though I miss them so much... I'm kind of glad I don't have to make that choice or relive those uncomfortable situations any longer.
Merry Christmas to all and a Prosperous 2013!!
I totally understand how you feel. Having parents and family split up doesn't help the child, not at all. Children always feel guilty about "who they spend their time with". Even until this day, when I go visit my family in Ohio - my mother wants me to herself. I try to go visit other people and she's like "where are you going?" or "when will you be back?" I'm like Mom, your not the only person I came to visit.. But I never actually tell her that, lol.
ReplyDeleteHave a wonderful New Year!