Last bit of Christmas
On Christmas night a small child brought a radio to her bed. She placed it on her pillow and laid as close as she could to it. The volume dial was all the way down. Her tiny fingers pushed the on button with caution. No sound came from the radio.
With her ear to the radio and her hand on the volume dial, she slowly turned. She could just barely hear the Christmas music that came through the speakers.
The Christmas spirit was leaving. Soon the tree would come down, the neighbors would take down the lights they strung on their homes, and the thought of Santa would leave her mind.
She wanted to make the last bit of Christmas last.
She was warm underneath the covers. The Christmas music played only for her to hear. She closed her eyes softly and listened. This was exactly what she wanted to be doing.
She listened until the station started playing its usual soft rock. It was 12:00am on the 26th. The girl turned off the radio, placed it onto the floor, and went to bed.
- - - -
This is a memory I have from the early 2000s as a young child.
I love that I hold this memory with me. Although, a simple story at surface it holds complexity. As an adult, I find myself trying to make moments last in special ways. I create significance and anticipate endings.
Because I was a child when I had this experience, I don’t remember a lot of the thoughts had leading up to that moment. I wish I knew at what point in the day I decided that I was going to listen to Christmas music until it no longer played. So, I used simple sentences and words while writing because making it anymore complex didn’t feel right.