A Merry Worry Christmas.

Today is the 25^th of December when Christians mark the birth of Jesus. The Bible (the Holy book of the Christians) holds a record that God came to earth in the form of man (Jesus) to reconcile His people back to Him, following the disconnect when Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden tree in disobedience to God. Even the Bible - a great book in time holds a record of the greed of man. Little wonder what the times have become. I digress, pardon me.

 

So, on the 25^th of December, every year, the believers in Jesus take the time to celebrate and express their indebted gratitude for the manner and the extent to which God went to make sure that His creations are not lost and separated from Him forever. I guess you can put it in other simpler words. Again, I digress, pardon me.

It is the 25^th of December and I wake up to a deafening silence and a sharp pain very deep in my stomach. I look at my phone to confirm the date because maybe I'm having one of those realistic dreams where you have another dream inside the dream. It’s past 10 am, so you would agree with me that my concerns are justified.

 

How did my mother let me sleep peacefully until 10:23 am? Why did my father’s loud Christmas music not cause me to jolt from my slumber at 7 am? Did I miss the church service too? Clearly, this is a dream inside another dream. And I’ll take it as my wake-up call to get up and get to work before my mother actually finds me in bed.

 

‘This place does not look like home. This place does not smell like home.’ I’ll quickly find my way to the kitchen and maybe the dream fairy will snap her fingers and I’ll return to real life. ‘This is not my mother’s kitchen.’ What is this dream? I start to prepare the food. It is very kind of this dream fairy to hint me to look in the fridge and freezer and get ideas on what meals to prepare. A bit weird, but let’s stick to the plot. I dare not play Christmas songs because this silence must be sustained for me to find my way back to reality.

 

It’s 12:43 pm, I have made a feast for Christmas, but the dream continues. I start to hear voices and sounds, and I see people coming down from the stairs. Familiar faces, I can confirm. But why are they here? Everyone is excited and everyone is grateful, but I am still confused.

 

It’s 5pm, and we have all eaten to our full. I decide to call my parents. Maybe I had anticipation and a bit of excitement underway, but I get a blow of words in exactment, ‘We’ve been out all day and planned to call you at the end of the day.’ I remain confused because why did you leave your own house and all the requirements of the day, to go somewhere else? Worse, why did you leave me out?

 

‘It’s getting colder ooh, abeg close the window.’ A voice behind me screams, causing me to experience an overload of my senses. As I shut the window close and take a deep breath, there’s this tightness in my chest. It’s as dark as midnight so I’m guessing my parents aren’t coming back -today- and this dream might be real.

 

I grab another piece of chicken and subconsciously wait for the slap on my hand from my mother, meaning that I’ve had too much and there’s not enough left for the guests. Nothing happens. I reach for another and another, and another, and a drink, but still nothing happens. 

 

As I am fighting to be present in the life where I put chicken bones in the bin, as opposed to the life where I gather them for the dogs, I realize that this is the Christmas where I am a teenage adult living several miles away from home and it’s up to me to make my Christmas what it is. 

 

‘Ahhhh’ I say, while hitting myself in the head, I should have played the Christmas music in the morning. For what it’s worth, there’s gratitude in my upset spirit and we’re glad to have had a Merry Worry Christmas.