Category: Santa Claus

Thanksgiving is one holiday that really doesn’t get much hype. Unless, of course, you fall into that set of people who must shop. I am definitely NOT one of those people. The powers that be can’t sell anything big for this particular holiday except the food items that are needed.

The focus is on Christmas, Hanukkah, maybe New Year’s Eve. However, many stores opened at 9PM on Thanksgiving day this year. In the past, this was unheard of. I think it’s ridiculous. Can’t people go one day without shopping? It’s bad enough the stores open their doors at 5AM.

What? Do people have to throw out their company because they are going shopping at 9PM? Do they say “Sorry, hurry and finish that piece of pie because I am out of here in an hour”?

I like a leisurely holiday. I enjoy the preparations, the dinner, whether in my own house or at family. Here in NY, the Macy’s Parade is televised so if you’re not there you can still see it.

My habit is to catch glimpses of the parade while preparing things for the dinner. It’s Christmas theme makes it the precursor to the big holiday to come. If you think about it, Thanksgiving is not the focus at all. Too bad.

The end of the parade signals the big curtain call, Santa Claus on his sleigh with all the reindeer and elves. It’s really a sight, and he’s usually great. It’s as if he’s a real person, very natural.

I get misty eyed seeing the Santa at the end. Something about him catches me by surprise. Good thing I don’t have a TV in my kitchen since I had it done over, or I’d be all choked up watching him.

I’m sure holidays are heavy for most people. The present is heavy, as well as the past. Is it the traditions, the anticipation, the expectations, conscious and subconscious? The things we used to do, things we still do, things that are new to do, things we must do, the people we did those things with, the stories we remember, and the people we’re doing them with today.

Heavy.

There are things we do and remember a time doing these same things, but the clothes, the era, were different, are different. I’m not that nostalgic, nor do I want to go back in time. I am just aware that things are different and changing.

Am I different? I supposed I am, but in many ways, no, I am not. I am still who I always was. Santa at the end of the parade made me misty eyed as a little kid, too.