i’m writing this on january 4th. christmas has been over for a while now, and i think i needed the distance before i could write about it. some days need to settle first.

christmas day in our family is never quiet. even now, i can still picture it clearly. the kitchen already busy, pots clinking, containers being opened and stacked on the table. there’s always too much food. as adults, we’re the ones moving around now, preparing, reheating, serving, asking if everyone’s eaten yet.

it feels different from when we were kids, but it feels right.

growing up, there was an unspoken rule we all followed: whoever has the capacity gives. no one explained it. it was simply how my grandparents led our family. there was no pressure to give more than you could, and no comparing. just giving, because it was christmas, and because it was family.

as kids, my cousins and i didn’t think about any of that. we just knew christmas meant sitting on the floor, waiting to open gifts, tearing through wrapping paper, laughing too loud. the room was always full of noise. adults talking in the background. someone taking photos we didn’t know would matter someday.

i understand those moments differently now.

when i started working, i didn’t decide to carry the tradition forward... it just became part of me. buying gifts for everyone became my thing. my mom, my siblings, my grandparents, my aunties and uncles, my cousins. it never felt like an obligation. it felt like my way of saying thank you.

thank you for how i was raised. thank you for the love that felt steady. thank you for a family that made generosity feel normal.

❮ ❯

christmas feels different now that we’re older. the table is fuller with food, but the room isn’t always as full as it used to be. some cousins are working overseas now. we talk about them while eating, mention time differences, say we’ll call later. they’re missed, even as we’re proud of them.

still, the day finds its rhythm.

between eating and cleaning up, karaoke always happens. someone picks up the mic. a song starts playing. voices crack. lyrics are forgotten. no one cares. we laugh more than we sing. the house fills with noise again, and for a moment, everything feels complete.

some things have changed over the years, but the heart of christmas in our family hasn’t. my lola carries it now. through her, the tradition continues.

i’m grateful for this family. for the values passed down to us. for the way we still gather when we can. for a christmas that doesn’t ask for perfection, only presence.

i’m sharing throwback photos of me and my cousins opening gifts as kids. looking at them now, it’s clear those moments never really left us. they grew with us. they show up in the way we prepare food, give gifts, sing off-key, and make space for one another.

it’s january 4th now. christmas feels far away, but the gratitude is still here.

and that’s what i wanted to remember. 🎄🤍

i also compiled some small clips from christmas day into a youtube video. just little moments i wanted to keep.