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
Unstuck Monsters 