A Virtual Christmas

Somewhere hidden in phone lines and cyberspace is my family. With Christmas nearing, it’s hard not to think of those faraway. Lying in bed, before I open my eyes in the morning I imagine I’m home again and that my Mother is washing dishes and cooking breakfast. Before I open my eyes, I pretend that out my windows are towering evergreens and snow-capped mountains. For a moment, I am on that little swivel stool next to the fireplace, listening to some in depth conversation about nothing. Sometimes, I’m even sledding or playing Kick the Can in a ridiculous snow suit. Before I open my eyes in my own bed in my own house, I am home…where comfortable is an understatement. Then I get up and let the images dissolve back into my wishful thinking and call Mom.

 “We’re sorry, no one is available to take your call. Please leave a message….”

Click.

Which reminds me: These 21^st century gadgets have become so secondary to us, we’ve lost sight of what was once real. A few weeks ago, I was lying in bed in the morning playing on my phone, scrolling through the news feed on Facebook. One of my friends had posted a picture of Carbondale dusted in snow and its caption read “first snow of the year.” And that’s how I found we had our first snow. I reached seven inches away and pulled back the curtain to see that, sure enough, it had snowed.

Two nights ago I saw my sister in Hawaii over Skype , yesterday I drew a picture like we used to do as children and posted it on my little sister’s profile so she could be reminded too, and  last night my 9- year- old nephew asked “did you see my status?” It’s everywhere—all around us.

I remember conversations with my brother that lasted regardless of cell service. I remember my Mother’s voice and what it used to sound like before being separated by half the United States, and I miss that. I can even remember the way her fingernails fold downward and her distinct sneezes.  That half smile right before my Dad tells a pun is hard to decipher over the phone, but I remember it. Just the way I remember my sister’s foot tapping the piano pedal and trying to follow along. And just the way I remember my little brother’s face as he hesitantly joined the room when us girls were doing our hair.

But it has become harder to remember.  This will be the first Christmas I will spend away from my family…away from home.  I imagine that in less than a week I will get to scroll through dozens of pictures and will be a part of several phone calls to that small town in Washington. But I will miss the feel of my stocking  and the sound of my sister’s guitar. I won’t be there to bear the heat of the woodstove or to taste that coffee. This year, I won’t wake to kindling and bacon crackling on Christmas morning, and I won’t sit down to a meal with my parents.


 I guess I’ll just Skype them with my iPhone while they open their gifts that I bought online. Then maybe, I’ll even blog about it share that in my updated status. I’ll call them to say Merry Christmas and then send them a text to say how nice it was to talk to them. I’ll load up my Facebook albums with new photos and tag myself in theirs.

And if it’s a really good Christmas, I might just like it.