Nostalgia.

As I stepped into my parents home, I felt a sense of peace.

I missed those days when I felt loved. Secure. Cared for. Protected.

nostalgic christmas memories

Christmas was so special then. We celebrated it in a big yet meaningful way.

There would be a big Christmas tree with lights and pretty decorations in the living room.  Late November to Early December would have us setting it up as a family and putting up the decorations. In those days, we had pen pals, sending letters through snail mail, with flat, lightweight gifts inserted in the envelopes for our overseas friends. Mom would take me gift shopping for my friends and for the people I cared about.

Christmas eve would be with our church friends. Me and my sister would go carolling with the other kids in church.We went from house to house, dressed in white, dressed like angels as we sang carols in our hosts’ homes. They would give us really yummy refreshments during the breaks. Some even gave us Christmas turkey.  Ok, we dressed like angels but were real terrors in the bus as we travelled from house to house, screaming and throwing confetti at one another. Our form of partying.

My parents would spend time with their friends. We’d meet for the midnight church service, counting down to Christmas day. Reflecting on our lives.

Christmas day itself, we would exchange gifts and celebrate with a late lunch. Maybe dinner. It was a season we really looked forward to.

I took a day off from work during the December holidays to bring my kids to see their grandparents. My parents.

The Christmas tree stood proud in the living room, beautifully decorated with lights and ornaments.

Little decorations peppered the neat and very well kept home.

Peace. Warmth. My kids love it there. The ambience, homeliness is special.. that special touch my folks bring.. fond memories.. relived again. In my parents’ home.