I've never been a fan of how abruptly Christmas ends. As a child, I could've sworn that the season stretched on, that the snowy, free-from-school days drew longer and longer--until I practically ached to sit behind a desk, practicing my multiplication skills. As an adult, however, it seems that we are eager to move on. That the big box post-holiday sales are more important than extra time with the family. That office work is more important than generosity. That the return to "normal" is of utmost importance--that we best stop playing Christmas music, and best take the tree to the curb.
We forget. We forget so easily and so quickly. We kvetch about how chaotic our get-togethers were. We complain about our exhaustion, about the tackiness of our received gifts. We move on and move forward, not a passing glance to what was just the "most wonderful time of the year."
December 25 is just one day out of 365. And, for me, it's still Christmas. The tree is still up, the lights are still on, and the evergreen-scented candle is still flickering, burning. The presence of such objects and scents are peaceful and nostalgic, and they remind me that kindness, forgiveness, and gratitude are for every day of the year.
So before too much of the city pushes into the new year, it's best to take a walk in the uncharacteristically-warm weather and enjoy the lights, the sights, and the sounds.