Lost in a sense

I remember when I was nine years old, hurrying down the stairs one late December morning to put on a videotape of the Muppet's Christmas Carol, because I'd forgotten what Christmas felt like. After a few minutes of watching, a feeling came over me, all tingles and itches, and I thought, ah! this is how Christmas feels. But as soon as I became aware of that feeling, it began to vanish, the magic lifting like fog from a car park. It became a memory of a feeling rather than the sensation of one. And clutch as I might, every year since this memory has faded further, until now all I recall is the shadow of that glow. But that is what happens; you move on.