I spent many Christmas Eves and Christmas mornings in a hotel room in somewhere U.S.A and watched the same movie. It didn’t matter where I was. I turned on TNT or TBS, and there was always the movie, “A Christmas Story” showing.
It has become my thing.
Even when I was at home, I insisted on watching the movie. My husband was puzzled.
“It’s not even your tradition.”
“No, I didn’t grow up like that. But, I just like the movie. How come you don’t like this movie? It’s your generation.”
“I can’t relate. My father wasn’t like that at all.”
It is my fourth Christmas without him. I have the movie on TV and realize that it is my childhood it reminds me of; a dedicated and selfless mother, a loving family and an awkward and simple world of a child.
I wonder if he is smirking seeing that I haven’t changed.