Christmas just isn't what it used to be
It's officially the holiday season, highlighted with Christmas, which in my opinion is the best holiday of the year. Being 16 years old is kind of doing the job, as in growing me up, though.
This year, Christmas came off as being somewhat dull. My family pretty much kept its distance from each other, and my parents did their job with making things as boring as possible.
When I was younger, Christmas was the one thing I never wanted to end. I remember the warmth of getting to sit by a fireplace, with the stockings hanging below, and the presents glittering under the tree, reflecting off the old multicolored lights we once owned.
Every Christmas my parents did a very good job of convincing me Santa was real. They went out of their way to have a family friend call me each Christmas Eve, pretending to be Santa, and every year I got what I wanted.
Also every year, my mom would take me out at around 8 o'clock to show me the Christmas lights. We would drive across the whole county for two hours, looking for the most colorful and creative decorations we could find.
I would be so exited to see what I got from Santa, I would wake up (on average), at 4 a.m., and I would go rummage through my stocking. (For some reason, the things I liked most were in my stocking).
The whole family (consisting of my two sisters, my brother, my grandma, and my cousins) would come down every year, and they would always make sure the bottom of the tree was filled.
I remember when I was in first grade, I got to bring home the class parrot over break. This was also a year my grandma (who is exceptionally old, and easily annoyed) came down and quietly planted herself on the living room couch for a week.
Well the parrot (who sat on the arch of the fireplace, right across from the couch) really liked to mock my grandma, and her television programs that she had been watching for years. And eventually when she couldn't take it anymore, she decided she'd let the bird out to get some air.
Well the bird managed to fly away (thanks to my exceptionally old grandma), and it didn't come back until the last day of break (thankfully).
The year I was in third grade was the year my dad finally came out with the truth. The rumors flying around school were that there was no such thing as Santa, and I decided to ask my dad about it on a car ride to Fargo. My dad (being overly honest) told me that Santa wasn't real, and that he and my mom had been lying to me about Santa. I cried for an hour.
When I got into middle school was when I got into hockey (or at least got a strong passion for it). Every day on Christmas, I would wake up, open my few presents and go to Lincoln rink for the day. That tradition unfortunately changed this year (due to the fact Lincoln rink had been torn down and moved, and I couldn't stand to go skate without being able to smell that wood stove), so I didn't go skate this year.
The end of that tradition, kind of ended my "childhood" memories of Christmas, as now I am developing into a young adult (haha) and I will have to create new Christmas memories to talk about. But I'm not ending my yearly tradition of watching "A Christmas Story" on TBS.
Jonah Bowe is a sophomore at Detroit Lakes High School.