It's Christmas and We're All in Misery
We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny-fucking-Kaye. -Clark Griswold
I have this photo of me from my childhood that I think about a lot, especially around Christmas because it comes out with the holiday decorations. In fact, Serge just pulled it out last week. He brought it to me as I sat at the kitchen table and I smiled. There is so much memory and meaning attached to it for me at this point, after all this time. It makes me think of my young parents who are out of frame. It was taken sometime around Christmas Day 1984 amidst the financial challenges that, I would learn later in life, they were dealing with. Harder, heavier struggles would come soon after.
The picture makes me think of myself. That particular smile on my face, I see my truest self in it. I also see a little baby blissfully unaware yet totally clocking all of the important life lessons being taught through my parents example that are still so important to me. Lessons that built me. Looking at this photo now makes me think about me and Serge and our love and life together, and it reminds me of how strong we are in the face of our own unique struggles. This year especially.
The photo currently lives in a super cheesy, plush snowman frame. I can’t even remember where it came from or what could have possibly made me think this photo needed to be put in it. It’s entirely tacky and not my normal style at all and yet, it remains. It’s me, I must be right around 15 months old if my math is any good, I don’t know. I have no actual memory of the day at all, of course, just this photo as proof it happened. A cold, cold, snowy day in a December long ago.
A simple one.
A happy one.
If this photo has anything to say about it.
You will find my tiny body bundled in thick layers of pink and a blue winter hat with the hood of my snowsuit pulled up and over. I am wedged down in a box. A cardboard box with Christmas tree wrapping paper still attached to it. A smile on my face and a juice bottle hanging out like a cigar.
The snow is reasonably deep for Central Pennsylvania, especially by today’s standards.
Now, this tale is all speculation on my end but let’s say it’s an educated speculative theory. So, if I had to surmise the narrative here, my dad specifically, he was very excited. My mom was 2 weeks away from giving birth to my sister, Haleigh, so the way I imagine it, especially after experiencing my own two pregnancies, she may have just been taking it kind of easy on the sidelines. My dad though, knowing my dad, he likely could not contain himself and this opportunity to take his first born out to play in the snow for what was probably the first time ever. I would have been too young in ‘83 and it’s hard to say how much snow had fallen previous to this day in ‘84, you know?
So, why am I in a cardboard box outside in the snow?