There's always something sweet to me about Christmas. I was lucky enough to grow up in a big loving family, where every Christmas was a chance to meet, enjoy time together and spread love.
One of my core memory is related to Christmas, it's a memory I can evoke in my mind and almost relive. When I close my eyes I come back to this winter, my grandmother's house, the faint lights bathing the room, my aunt, cousins and parents sitting at the table or going around. I can hear faint hints of laughter, see the food disposed around the buffet, and the blinking lights on the Christmas tree ... When I feel lost and gloomy, this memory is a refuge from the problems of the world.
Things changed over the years. My grandfather passed away after years of illness, my grandmother left us during the covid, and we all grew up, some with children, some (like me) leaving the country, ... But Christmas is always the moment when I find the way back home. Christmas changes but not what I feel inside my heart for this period. And even if it will never be the same, every new Christmas still holds a spark of those precious times I hold in a corner of my heart.
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