My memory is pretty bad. I really can’t remember stuff I feel like I should remember, but that’s how I am, so I just go with it. I mean, some things stick in there, but ask me the date of almost anything and I pretty much won’t know. But every now and then there’s a trigger that brings something back so clearly it’s like it’s happening right in front of me.
Every year for Christmas one of my sisters sends me homemade cookies. This I remember, and look forward to, very much! I wait happily and a little impatiently for her box to arrive, then I take it upstairs away from everybody else and open it. I pull out the cookies, candy, anything like that, and put the other things under the tree. The goodies, I keep for myself.
Now, I am not entirely the family scrooge for doing this. My husband is very healthy and good with his diet, and he doesn’t eat any sugar or sweeteners other than fruit, ever. I am in awe of this, because I grew up eating any number of sweet things and continue to do so to this day. I have a definite sweet tooth, and cookies especially are my comfort food. In an effort to keep this same thing from developing in our son, we limit the sweet things he’s been exposed to. I’m not saying he’s never had sugar or a cookie, but he’s had a lot less than the typical American kid, and his diet runs closer to my husband’s than to mine. So I am very comfortable with keeping all the cookies to myself, since I don’t bake those kinds of things anymore, and I really really really like them, and my husband won’t eat them, and it’s better for my son not to eat them, so they are mine. I’ve been doing this for years, now, and I hope to continue in the future.
Anyway, this year, as I was upstairs away from everybody else eating my first cookie, a memory flashed from last year, actually from the last several years, and I realized that this year I was not sick for Christmas. My memory was of me, in bed, sick with a head cold and trying to rest, sneaking Christmas cookies and getting sugar and crumbs all over the sheets, while Dennis took Evan out somewhere to do something fun. It’s strange, I remember the cookies, but didn’t remember being sick every year until I ate one when I wasn’t in bed. Then I remembered those sugar crumbs all around me as I tried to sleep a little with my sinuses all stuffed up, year after year.
This year I didn’t get a cold until the week after Christmas. Luckily, not a bad one, because, sadly, the cookies are all gone. Until next year.