No place like home for the holidays.
Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays.
For no matter how far away you roam,
If you want to be happy in a million ways,
For the holidays, you can't beat home, sweet home.
Sitting here watching the snow fall from the dark, November sky and listening to Christmas music because playing in the snow tonight got me into a Christmas-y mood, I've done a lot of thinking.
And I'm pretty damn excited.
When I was little, I never really understood those news reports near the holidays about traffic and "holiday travelers." Nearly all of my family members lived no more than 10 minutes away. Sure, I had some close relatives on the West Coast in San Diego, but, for the most part, my family as a whole was located in Northeastern Pennsylvania.
We drove five minutes to my grandmother's house for Christmas dinner then ten minutes in the opposite direction to my grandfather's for another. And everybody at those dinner's, all of the names on the tags on the wrapped boxes under the tree and all of those smiling faces that were filled with pure joy to be spending that day together, they were all so close. A short car ride, and we were at Aunt so and so's house. A few minutes down the road and we'd be visiting with Uncle fill-in-the-blank.
But now here I sit, three hours removed from that closeness and security. And I'm not just separated from my kin, but also my closest friends.
All of a sudden, I need to pay attention to the holiday traffic. I am a "holiday traveler."
And I love this idea of packing my bags to head home for the holidays. I love this idea of seeing close friends who have only existed in phone conversations and instant messenger chats for the past few friends. I love the idea of everything being the way it used to be for the most magical time of the year.
We'll exchange gifts and eat some turkey and watch it snow and have snowball fights and come inside and all sit down together and share stories of the good old days. And that makes me feel a little bit old. The fact that I have "good old days" to reminisce about.
But, such is life, I suppose. Growing old and maturing and moving on and leading a new life but coming back to that familiarity and comfort and security and indescribable happiness that you'll always have and will always be able to be summed up in one word:
Home.
I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love
Even more than I usually do.
And although I know it's a long road back,
I promise you:
I'll be home for Christmas.
You can count on me.
For no matter how far away you roam,
If you want to be happy in a million ways,
For the holidays, you can't beat home, sweet home.
Sitting here watching the snow fall from the dark, November sky and listening to Christmas music because playing in the snow tonight got me into a Christmas-y mood, I've done a lot of thinking.
And I'm pretty damn excited.
When I was little, I never really understood those news reports near the holidays about traffic and "holiday travelers." Nearly all of my family members lived no more than 10 minutes away. Sure, I had some close relatives on the West Coast in San Diego, but, for the most part, my family as a whole was located in Northeastern Pennsylvania.
We drove five minutes to my grandmother's house for Christmas dinner then ten minutes in the opposite direction to my grandfather's for another. And everybody at those dinner's, all of the names on the tags on the wrapped boxes under the tree and all of those smiling faces that were filled with pure joy to be spending that day together, they were all so close. A short car ride, and we were at Aunt so and so's house. A few minutes down the road and we'd be visiting with Uncle fill-in-the-blank.
But now here I sit, three hours removed from that closeness and security. And I'm not just separated from my kin, but also my closest friends.
All of a sudden, I need to pay attention to the holiday traffic. I am a "holiday traveler."
And I love this idea of packing my bags to head home for the holidays. I love this idea of seeing close friends who have only existed in phone conversations and instant messenger chats for the past few friends. I love the idea of everything being the way it used to be for the most magical time of the year.
We'll exchange gifts and eat some turkey and watch it snow and have snowball fights and come inside and all sit down together and share stories of the good old days. And that makes me feel a little bit old. The fact that I have "good old days" to reminisce about.
But, such is life, I suppose. Growing old and maturing and moving on and leading a new life but coming back to that familiarity and comfort and security and indescribable happiness that you'll always have and will always be able to be summed up in one word:
Home.
I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love
Even more than I usually do.
And although I know it's a long road back,
I promise you:
I'll be home for Christmas.
You can count on me.