I
know what Christmas smells like, and it isn’t pumpkin pie. It’s Scotch tape.
When I was a little girl, there were noises that meant Christmas - like the crowds and vendors in the streets and the bustle of the Tía department store in downtown Quito. There was the taste of ice cream in Aloag on our way back down the mountains. And finally, once we were home and scurried to our own little corners to wrap gifts, Dad would pull out the good tape. The Scotch tape with its own distinctive smell.
Over
the years, that smell came to mean home and family and excitement around the
corner.
Over
the more recent years, I have become a master at losing the tape. Every
Christmas I buy more, not because we use it up but because I’ve lost the tape purchased the year before. It simply disappears into the multitude of boxes
and drawers of things “I’ll put away someday”.
As
I’ve gotten caught up in the rush of work, of keeping up with friends and
family, of always moving from one project to the next, one event to the next,
the toe-tingling excitement of things around the corner is also often missing.
As my family has settled, each in our own pocket of the world, there’s no more dashing down a different stair in Tía so my brother won’t see what I bought him, or waiting till my sister leaves the room so I can wrap her present (which is in a super-top-secret hiding place under my bed). My children are grown and have their own lives, my parents have passed away.
Someday, I want to sell my house and move to something a little less permanent. I don’t like geographic roots. If you look around my house, you’ll find few pictures on the walls. There are several boxes that have never quite been unpacked.
It
occurred to me recently, though, that by never fully moving in I haven’t
avoided roots; I’ve avoided a home. I’ve failed to truly live where I am.
So
I’ve decided. In the spirit of Christmas and life renewed, this is my season to
reset. I’m emptying boxes, pulling out pictures to hang. Tomorrow, my
kids and grandkids are all coming together for our Christmas celebration and
excitement is starting to lap the edges of my toes. It’s time to make “home”
a way of life, no matter where I live it.
And
if inspiration to keep my reset on track is ever needed, all I have to do is look
at the stacks of Scotch tape in my desk. I have Christmas in a drawer and plenty to share.
In fact, so far, I’ve found seven years’ worth.
In fact, so far, I’ve found seven years’ worth.
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