Another Christmas

It’s not like it was

You think

As you reach into the past

And pluck out pieces

Of Christmases gone by

An imagined perfection

Found in a memory

You never had

But have created

From the melody

Of an old Christmas song

Another Christmas

And it’s all the same

Same as it always was

But never quite

As you remember it

For me

Christmas is

The awful carpet

Of my childhood home

Mistletoe & Wine on a record player

Going to Woolworths

To buy Especially For You

On a single vinyl

For my big sister’s birthday

Before playing

First narrator

In the nativity play

Reading from orange card

Too big for my small hands

Not bad for someone

Who was in speech therapy

A year before

A Christmas lost

In magic, in innocence

In ignorance

Of bad times to come

And what it meant to be an adult

With grown-up responsibility

And the weight of the world

On my shoulders

Looking at my reflection

And not seeing

Another Christmas

On the other side

But here I am

Because of something

Bigger

I learnt, that

Christmases are built

On a choice

You make

To get busy living

Or get busy trying

Because dying

Is the only other option

And I opted out

Now I’ll take Another Christmas

With its predictability

And nostalgia

And family routine

I’ll take the stomach ache

And the stress

Of being a better person

A bigger person

The best version of me

Who decides to live it

To live

Another Christmas

Because I choose

To make good on this life

And to meet the day

When my own children

Will come to me

Complaining

That Christmas isn’t like it was

And I will tell them

What I took so long to learn

Hoping that

When they are presented

With their choice

They will

Choose Wisely

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