I received an e-mail from my brother today. He had been going through some old photos (actual photos!) and scanning them. He came across a few which were taken when my son was two-years-old. So naturally I thought “Why not show him off.”Everyone, certainly when he was this age, and even to this day, comments on his eyes: the OB/GYN declared he would be a “lady killer”; complete strangers have gawked at his peepers; waitresses will still look at him and become almost effusive—”You have the most beautiful eyes” they’ll coo.
As most kids like to do, he seemed to especially enjoy sitting behind the wheel, didn’t matter what car. Now he does it for real. Where the hell did 15+ years go?
The impetus for this quick post wasn’t to show off old pictures as much as to share, perhaps, what struck me as the blossoming of the Christmas spirit from its most ephemeral to its most humanly tangible. Christmas, as we know and celebrate it (in its often ugliest capitalist form) is a uniquely American holiday. The real joy for we adults, I dare say, is watching the unfettered delight and bacchanalistic rapture of children as they steep themselves in all the trappings of an American Christmas morning (or Christmas Eve, for those who celebrate it the night before).
That very spirit gets captured in a frozen moment in countless photos taken by family. The two below are no exception:
All the well wishes exchanged during the holiday season can’t come close to touching us like the elation and unbridled joy, or the heartfelt smiles fixed upon the tiny faces of our children . . . and forever in our hearts.
Merry Christmas everyone, and my best wishes for a healthy and prosperous new year!