Holidays are such precious things. I remember when I was little I could barely fall asleep before Christmas Day. I remember popping out of my bed Easter morning and running downstairs to find the eggs the Easter bunny hid. I remember so many holidays with such vibrancy that it’s almost blinding.
Over the years, holidays have started to lose their significance to me. Only Christmas and my friends’ birthdays are important to me now, mainly because I can give people gifts.
I miss being able to have days of pink, red, and white hearts on Valentines Day. Spending hours on my mailbox and Valentines I would hand out to every one. I miss drawing two extra hearts on my best friend’s valentine and eating all the candy when I got home.
I miss my birthday. I miss waking up with a special breakfast and birthday cake in the freezer. Looking back, I really do admire how much my mother could surprise me in little ways, even with working a full-time job. I miss going to the Lazy Dog with my whole family.
And in these ways, I miss all the other holidays. Every year, Christmas, Valentines Day, Halloween, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day comes around and they’re the same as any other day. I miss how special these days were to me.
This year’s Easter, for instance, was quite normal. I woke up and talked to my sister. Then I cleaned my room and watched a movie in the lounge. We did egg dying, but only for about 5 minutes. I wish that Sunday was special. A campus-wide egg hunt or a van trip to eat brunch. It wasn’t a bad day, but I just wish it were more special, more memorable, like the ones I used to have.