Elder laments lost magic of Christmas

For Locksley Wilson, Christmas today is a shadow of the dazzling joy he felt as a boy.

The 68-year-old finds himself transported back to a time when the season was alive with warmth, laughter, and a sense of magic that money could never buy.

Thinking back to the Christmases of his childhood, Wilson said, "Christmas just isn't what it used to be when I was a boy and a dress up and walk down King Street."

As memories of past holidays flooded back, Wilson, now a resident at the Desmond McKenzie Transitional Centre for the Homeless in Kingston, acknowledged that times have changed.

"Maybe it's economic struggle," he opined, "but change has been happening."

Wilson's memories paint a vivid picture of a festive world now fading.

"They still have Grand Market, but not like when I was growing up," he said. "Man, it is different now."

Grand Market, held on Christmas Eve, is one of the highlights of the season. Held in major towns, it provides one last shopping opportunity before Christmas, while providing non-stop entertainment through music, lights, and the irresistible aroma of festive foods.

For Wilson, it was more than shopping -- it was a night of laughter, community, and the magic of Christmas that he still remembers vividly.

"It was just very joyful," he said. "Dem things deh nuh deh any more."

He worries that the younger generation may never feel the deep, shared spirit he experienced.

"Even the kids nowadays, I don't think they are getting the fulfilment of Christmas. As a child, for me, Christmas was more loving and caring, especially to your neighbours and other people," Wilson said

Growing up in Duhaney Park, St Andrew, Christmas was more than decorations -- it also involved dressing "dapper" and taking pride in appearances. Recalling the fashion of the '70s, Wilson said that going to the tailor to have pants made "was the in-thing".

"I remember wearing all cowboy hat. Fashion was fashion in those days. In the '70s we had bell-foot pants. Wait, yuh ever hear when dem say you dress like puss-foot? Clean!" he joked.

Wilson recalled his stepmother's style vividly. "I remember my stepmom wearing hobble skirts. Dem had to whine into it; those skirt was used to keep the posture, plus the stockings and spike heels. Dem dress up, man!"

Wilson recalls saving deligently for Christmas visits to the tailor, to get just the right material for church, and, of course, to impress the girls.

"Wi clean, man! The men had their nice terylene and wool pants, with shirts. We dress up gone a church. Dem booguyaga pants drop down wasn't it, and if pants tear in those days, it haffi dash weh!"

He stressed how important the tailor was in those days.

"Everything was tailor-made and look well nice. And mi had my girl to impress, so mi have to look good in my gun-mouth pants, too. We never wore jeans. I had some nice Clarks shoes because my father used to cha-cha, so him make sure mi clean," Wilson said with pride.

Those traditions shaped more than holiday memories. They shaped him as a man and a father of three girls.

Though the Christmas breeze he longs for seems distant, he finds small joy in the shelter's festive decorations and upcoming celebrations.

"I appreciate the nurses, because from last week they put up these little decorations and Christmas tree. If you came yesterday you would think I was the Santa, because I grew out my beard, but I just cut it off," he said, with a hearty laugh.