Today is my favorite day of the year. The day after Christmas.
It used to be a least favorite. Remember that feeling, after the last gift was opened, the last relative left the house in the evening? I used to have that feeling as a kid, even as an adult, once upon a time. Heck, I even did something as outrageous as getting married two days after Christmas, 49 years ago. It was bad timing but it was super-magic because of the timing,and it remains my only lasting gift.
Remember the magic that the arrival of Christmas music on the car radio, one week before the day, brought? The thrill that came with the stores, all finally decorated and ready for shoppers, maybe six whole weeks before? Not in October, maybe right after Thanksgiving, not before. Slowly (or so we thought it at the time), things would lead to the big celebration and we were happy and joyful and filled with anticipation as the holiday of all holidays approached. We weren't sick to death of it.
For that sick to death feeling and for a few others, I have replaced my feelings of joy and profound happiness with gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair as the day approaches. Yes, I can join the bandwagon and complain about the commercialism of Christmas. It's there and it's real and it's a damned shame. We literally start the commotion right after Halloween and the horror show continues to pick up speed as November approaches, with an intense air of dread starting on December the first.
I am sure I am not flying solo on this one. I'm just glad that I was in Italy for the month of November where it isn't quite as blinding. There, at least they wait until December the 7th or 8th to really crank it up and, I can assure you, it is so much sweeter and real, so much more tolerable. I don't think I heard Mariah Carey one single time.....until I re-entered and lost so much of the sweetness and real meaning of the holiday ahead.
So, today, is my real, honest holiday of Christmas. I don't have to compare my festivities to those of other family and friends. I don't have to cry all day, thinking of past Christmases, when I had hopes and dreams of Christmas-in-the-future, one in which I would be gathering with children, grandchildren and enjoying a day of all days. One filled with laughter and lights. I don't have to be sad all day, realizing that those days, those precious days, are gone forever. That the family is non-existent. That grandchildren are not around to light up the day, divorce leaving grandparents as the biggest losers. I don't have to go to the nursing home, to visit a depressed parent who used to be my Santa Claus but now won't even open his card, never mind a few simple gifts.
So, to all who enjoyed yesterday, I am very happy for you. If you are feeling let down today, I understand and feel sorry for you. It will pass. As for next Christmas, I have twelve months to brace myself. Each year, I say to my husband...."this is the last time" and I mean it at the time. He's always happy, or so he appears to be, so he always just agrees but....I think this year even he's had it and is ready to throw in the towel. So, here's to next year and to living today, every day. The real gift is that of having a life to live, of being free to choose how to live it and confident in the knowledge that we only have to do it one day at a time.
It used to be a least favorite. Remember that feeling, after the last gift was opened, the last relative left the house in the evening? I used to have that feeling as a kid, even as an adult, once upon a time. Heck, I even did something as outrageous as getting married two days after Christmas, 49 years ago. It was bad timing but it was super-magic because of the timing,and it remains my only lasting gift.
Remember the magic that the arrival of Christmas music on the car radio, one week before the day, brought? The thrill that came with the stores, all finally decorated and ready for shoppers, maybe six whole weeks before? Not in October, maybe right after Thanksgiving, not before. Slowly (or so we thought it at the time), things would lead to the big celebration and we were happy and joyful and filled with anticipation as the holiday of all holidays approached. We weren't sick to death of it.
For that sick to death feeling and for a few others, I have replaced my feelings of joy and profound happiness with gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair as the day approaches. Yes, I can join the bandwagon and complain about the commercialism of Christmas. It's there and it's real and it's a damned shame. We literally start the commotion right after Halloween and the horror show continues to pick up speed as November approaches, with an intense air of dread starting on December the first.
I am sure I am not flying solo on this one. I'm just glad that I was in Italy for the month of November where it isn't quite as blinding. There, at least they wait until December the 7th or 8th to really crank it up and, I can assure you, it is so much sweeter and real, so much more tolerable. I don't think I heard Mariah Carey one single time.....until I re-entered and lost so much of the sweetness and real meaning of the holiday ahead.
So, today, is my real, honest holiday of Christmas. I don't have to compare my festivities to those of other family and friends. I don't have to cry all day, thinking of past Christmases, when I had hopes and dreams of Christmas-in-the-future, one in which I would be gathering with children, grandchildren and enjoying a day of all days. One filled with laughter and lights. I don't have to be sad all day, realizing that those days, those precious days, are gone forever. That the family is non-existent. That grandchildren are not around to light up the day, divorce leaving grandparents as the biggest losers. I don't have to go to the nursing home, to visit a depressed parent who used to be my Santa Claus but now won't even open his card, never mind a few simple gifts.
So, to all who enjoyed yesterday, I am very happy for you. If you are feeling let down today, I understand and feel sorry for you. It will pass. As for next Christmas, I have twelve months to brace myself. Each year, I say to my husband...."this is the last time" and I mean it at the time. He's always happy, or so he appears to be, so he always just agrees but....I think this year even he's had it and is ready to throw in the towel. So, here's to next year and to living today, every day. The real gift is that of having a life to live, of being free to choose how to live it and confident in the knowledge that we only have to do it one day at a time.
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