As I write this , I am sitting on the bed wearing my white night shirt and pyjama ( there are small butterflies and hearts all over this night suit ). Lying somewhere on the bed is my lilac cap and on the study, my grey sweater. Lastly, my two blankets folded neatly are lying on my pillow–sending me feelers to abandon this blog and go to sleep, wrapped in their warm arms!
But I refuse their offer. I do so because I have the integrity to let my loyal followers and readers know why these guests have made their way to my bed tonight, and will probably come every night. Dear reader, I fancy your intelligence. That is why, I believe you must have guessed that December is the reason why these honourable , highly useful guests have received an invitation to my room!
It is an understatement to say that I am excited! This month is my favourite month of the year. I love December because it is the last month of the year. I start comparing the version of me in the beginning of the year to the version of me that exists now– at the end of the year. I love to notice how much I have grown, how much I have changed and how different all my relationships are. I love to notice how well behaved my hair is. I love the soups and winter foods! I love the weddings and the new year preparations. And I absolutely adore the Christmas vacations. But wait.
All these thoughts are suddenly interrupted by something I see from my window. Sad, harsh reality strikes me.
I see a fire burning somewhere, smoke rising from it. Around that fire is a small family. I cannot see exactly how many people are sitting there but I do know that the only source of their warmth is the fire that burns near them, the fire within them extinguished.
So the same December airs that lull me into deep, dream enriched sleep give some others sleepless nights. The month that I love is feared, hated by some. The month that is warm to me, sends some really icy vibes to some unfortunate others. I really have to dig out my closet for some old blankets and sweaters tomorrow and hope you do so too, because readers–December isn’t the same for everyone.