Why Christmas Doesn’t Have the Same Magic For Me
Santa Clause is long gone, and Rudolph is dead
My Christmas spirit is really in the dumps this year. It's been low since my mother passed away in 2009. She was the queen of Christmas. It was her favorite Holiday. She would decorate the table with her seasonal tablecloth, new placemats, and sometimes a poinsettia.
She would order cookies, candies, nuts, and fruits from various vendors around the country. It was fabulous how she embraced the Holiday.
My mom was a marvelous cook and baker. She would stay awake all night to get her dinner completed. Gumbo, collard greens, potato salad, and a turkey or ham would come together under her adept skill.
The cakes and pies on the counter seemed to be kissed by a scent of sweetness and called to whoever passed by. I wondered at her gifts in the kitchen. My mother was a full-figured woman, but in her youth, she moved around the kitchen with the grace of a five-star chef. Pots clanged together and created a symphony. A symphony that came together on the taste buds of our family.
However, the actual glue of the whole experience was the music filling my childhood home. Blues maestros hollered across the paneled walls and shook picture frames from their nails. My mom loved her denim skirts. As…
