Like the corners of my mind

Its hard not to reminisce at this time of year.

Like all significant dates, Christmas day is one of those dates that you can look back and remember-with perfect clarity- exactly what you were doing one year previous. This year saw me sitting and crying to Noel's Christmas Presents, eating crisps in my pyjamas at 5 pm. I was reminded of last year, when I sat on the couch, hungover, swaddled in my housecoat, watching Noel's Christmas Presents and crying into a box of pringles.

All people seem to say is "Christmas is different these days," but I can't see it. You feel it as much as you want to feel it. The build up still feels the same-nights out all involve the same songs, the witnessing of awkward (and soon to be regrettable) party kisses, plenty of wine, and they all, all end on "Fairytale of New York."
Last minute shopping still requires a machete, and Christmas Eve drinks still take place in the same venue with the same people. Nothing has changed, we've just gotten older, and in a way, theres something warmly reassuring about these traditions that have eased their way in over the years.

But this year was different.

Amidst the Christmas carols and Noel Edmond's nasal whine, there was a different sound to be heard. The gurgling and soft cry of my brand new nephew from his pram. He's just two weeks old, and as I held the tiny, shiny, wriggly little person and looked at him, I couldn't remember seeing anything so perfect in my whole life. His needs are so simple and even though he can't smile yet, I know he's happy.
I was there the moment he was born- something he'll surely come to forget and potentially resent as he blossoms into a surly teenager. But for now he is young, and its so impossibly hard to be bitter when you hold so much possibility in your arms.

Happy Christmas everyone.