today's christmas. and i wanna talk about it. i think it's the first year i really, truly, deeply, completely realized how much more important family/friends are than any presents received. around 3:30 am this morning, i sat in the middle of my bedroom floor, my christmas box from chip and tam between my legs. as i struggled with the exceptionally thick and sticky tape, i started to realize that even though i may feel independent in this new, foreign country, that i may tell myself i'm not homesick...my heart was. i realized i was like the bubble wrap my petits cadeaux were wrapped in: hardened, protected, sealed, but so easily punctured once touched. i sat there opening this brown square box conscious of the fact that opening a gift is only thoroughly enjoyable with others by your side...with the slight nervousness and anticipation upon the opening of it, knowing someone is watching you, but you don't want to meet the gaze until after you've torn the wrapping off. i opened my box wishing myself a merry christmas, wishing i had a stocking stuffed full of random bonbons and trinkets...i opened my box feeling wholly grateful that someone would waste 45 bucks for shipping on me just so i'd have a present on christmas. then at the same time, feeling a deep sense of loneliness that i was alone opening this..that there was no one to thank and hug...no one to watch when they opened my presents that i bought for them. no one to gaze at and watch their reaction as they got closer and closer to the prize tightly wrapped inside the cheery paper. i didnt even care that the box from my mom was in the mail and i'd still have something else to open. i'm not sure why these mix of sentiments struck me so intensely, i just know they still exist. i went to bed this christmas night with a mysterious feeling of solitude, but hoping the morning would bring something better.
it did. i woke up ready to meet the french family who was welcoming me and one of my american friends for their christmas lunch. they live in the country and have 3 kids, a boy 2 yrs. old, raphael, a girl 4 or 5 yrs. old, alban, and another boy 7 yrs. old, charles edouard. when we first arrived, they still needed to cook, so we went upstairs to play with the kids. at first, i was under the impression that we were "stuck" with the kids, but that notion quickly disappeared. it's so interesting (and cute) to hear kids talk your second language... besides other exchange students, they're actually on your level. we hung out with these kids / the family all day, ate with them, played "jungle speed," a pretty cool game, and took a walk in the countryside. these kids welcomed us so quickly, and were sitting in our laps after an hour...there's something about kids...they can feel people out very quickly. they can tell who they like and perhaps who the "good people" are. these kids are very smart, charles was telling us history stories and was interested in the animal tracks while we were taking a walk. they're also very boisterous, but when their father would tell them to behave, they would listen, or if charles would pick on his sister, he would apologize or help her find whatever he took out of her hand and threw behind the bed...there is something very honest and straight forward about kids that either makes me want to be a child again, or perhaps it's just an impossible craving to find a person like that, or the realization that i'm tainted myself, that everyone is somehow tainted by one experience or another and the chance of total honesty and innocence and vulnerability is tarnished...there was just something so genuine about these kids that intrigued me...that made me wish i could stay...that made me offer to baby-sit...that made me insist more than once to stay in contact...
there came a point when we were all walking through the muddy path uphill, and i caught the view, that just made me realize how cool it is to be here. how unique and real it is. of course i didnt let anyone on to my thoughts, but after i saw the green hills and setting sun over the country road...i thought about christmas and what it meant. people celebrate "christmas" for the "birth of christ," but not me. sure, it's a christian holiday and of course it's jesus' "day," and to some other people perhaps its just a day to bring family together and get presents. me, i thought about elizabeth as i climbed through the mud in the late afternoon. i thought about how her death showed me to never give into weakness. to always fight. because you can't let yourself down and you can't give into other's weaknesses. i loved her, i still love her, literally not a day goes by when a thought, short or in depth, about her enters my mind. she hasn't been in my dreams for a while now, and i miss her. that's how we keep in touch. the lucidity of her presence confirms many things about the "after-life," or just a different, fresh life, i like to think. maybe she's off doing something that she couldn't do here..maybe she's busy visiting places...people...maybe she's just chillin. christ died for "our" sins, and i don't care what anyone thinks, but she's like my christ. her death and my constant intrigue for what could have been of her, of our friendship, makes me keep going. when i told her i was going to study abroad, she didn't want me to go... and before she could even give it a chance she left. but the only difference between us is that i always planned on coming back. and i would've said goodbye.
sure, christmas is technically about christ, and maybe presents, but really, REALLY it's about stepping back and seeing the lushness, seeing what is presented to you. and profiting from it. and trying to transform the muddled confusion into lucid lessons. shit, you don't need mark, john, paul or those other guys to write some imaginative tale, we write our own through all the mud we trudge through trying to get to the top of that hill to see the beautiful view.
damn Case, joliment dit
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