Unpacking a box of Christmas items passed along by my mother, I couldn't help but smile as I placed the colorful 1980s Christmas decor proudly on a shelf, just out of Brantley's reach. These collections of bells and ceramic bears dressed in Santa suits resonated with me, emitting a vibrance akin to the one that radiates from Brantley himself.
As I thought about the magic these items evoked during my childhood, I pondered how today’s Christmas sharply differs from the vibrant hues and nostalgic charm of my childhood holidays in the 1980s. Back then, families gathered around tinsel-covered live trees, and the enchanting atmosphere was heightened by the warm glow of colorful lights and the scent of pine.
I found myself wishing that Brantley could have experienced a Christmas from the 1980s, wondering if it would have made him feel a sense of belonging. Brantley, with his unique individuality and special qualities, mirrors the vibrancy of the eclectic decor from that era. His world is as vivid and full of surprises as each house’s unique and distinctive Christmas decorations were. Perhaps that is why I feel such a strong connection to them.
Today’s meticulously adorned artificial trees and matching pajamas starkly contrast with the vibrant hues and nostalgic charm of my childhood Christmases. The more I reflect, the stronger I yearn for the colorful, mismatched, and tinseled Christmases of bygone years.
Similar to the nostalgia associated with that era, understanding and appreciating the unique perspectives and strengths of an autistic child can reveal a richness beyond the surface. Both the 80s Christmas decor and Brantley hold the potential for discovery, appreciation, and a celebration of their unique charm.
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