My Vein, My Blood – #23

Just Something I Wrote

 

I was at the local mall food court.  It’s not dated.

 

There’s an old man in a wheelchair sharing a strawberry sundae from Dairy Queen with another man, maybe his son.  The son holds the cup so it doesn’t slip as the man scoops up the ice cream with a red spoon.  He has two napkins tucked into his shirt collar.  There are dribbles of strawberry on the napkin.

In the circle just beyond the food court a group of children are lining up on risers getting ready to sing.  Christmas carols I bet.  They’re so cute with their white shirts and red bow ties.  There’s so much noise in the food court we probably won’t be able to hear them.  I remember those days when my kids were the ones giving the concerts.  You could never see over the crowd, parents and spectators jockeying for position.

I’m tired.  I’ve seen too many Santas and snowmen.  Angels and reindeer.  Teddy bears.  My God, so damn many Teddy bears.  The same tired carols played over and over on every store speaker.  Do you simply outgrow Christmas I wonder?  Does it lose its magic?  Or do years of commercialism just wear us down.  The wonder is gone.  The children are no longer wide-eyed and in awe.  They pick out their gifts themselves.  Mostly they’d prefer cash.  For what can you buy them that they don’t already have?

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