Memories 2022

I came across this wrapping paper that trapped a gift under the Christmas tree. The foil and embossments reminded me of the 1970s. The birth of me, in '73, and my Nan's artificial tree. The lights on the tree were the bubble candles, not those sold to look old, but those that were old and were put in the fold in the parlor on St. Joseph's Street. A place where my cousins and I look back on with warm lit memories of decorating with Nan. The modest parlor spoke sweet songs of tidings and joy, the elegance of the room was at its utmost when my grandma stood in it, beautifully humble. Beautifully uplifted by a loving family that is always present. Present in the presents wrapped in pretty paper. I look at the vintage paper and I am lifted to those days. I dream of that house, 910 St. Joseph's Street, where my family drove its roots down into the dirt floor of the basement, the yard boasted parties and shenanigans, the rooms filled with comfort and joy. The "TV room" filled with sports and beer and cigarette smoke. Happiness and challenges, pride and joy. Christmas spirit all over the square footage. The tree was lit with love. My nostalgia overflows when I look at this gold foiled paper. I want to open the present because it's a gift from the past. My cousins are my first Besties. We are all hugged up under the same tree, decorating it for generations to come. Tinsel, bubble lights, glass balls and all.