Eggnog and Christmas

For years I have been trying to describe the indescribable: Eggnog.
How can you describe eggnog? It is both sweet and thick, creamy, yet subtle and… and…

 I’m stuck again.

 How can you describe eggnog? For me it is the substance beyond description.

   Sometimes Christmas is like that too. Beyond description. It changes with the years. Christmas used to be a time for excitement and anticipation so acute that it was almost painful. Then it became a constant battle between hope and logic, wondering, wondering… what will this Christmas dance hold for me?

Now, this Christmas I found myself faced with a problem.

The Holidays, like everything else, seemed full of an unexplainable monotony for me. Try as I might I couldn't conjure up any enthusiasm. Christmas came and went in a whisper and nothing but a  tiny pinch of excitement over one of my presents crossed my mind. That old Christmas glow of joy seemed to be missing too, although I caught hints of it from time to time. I didn’t feel able to share in the “do you remembers?” that come with Christmas conversation, but rather indulged in silent dreams  of Christmases to come.

 
And so this Christmas I sat listening, watching and waiting; sipping my eggnog and dreaming dreams afar.