It takes a big man to admit when he is wrong, a big woman too, for that matter. No, not that kind of big woman, the other kind. Well, you know what I mean. I have admitted my wrongdoings to others in the past and it was no big deal. But this time I had to tell myself I was wrong, and in doing so realized that I tend to lie to myself more than I should.
Contrary to the popular notion, I have always contended that time does not fly and that life moves rather slowly. Heck, sometimes the days seem to really drag on and on. But I have never been one to question my own mortality, and I don't carry around my ideal retirement number like those people in the commercial. Instead, the number I always focused on was the amount of “good” years I had left on this earth. You know, the number of years that I could actually be productive and not a burden to others. Well, it recently dawned on me that my “good” number was really getting smaller.
The “good” number used to be larger than my actual age, but now I fear that it is not. This is a sobering fact. I hadn't given it much thought until I flipped over the calendar and noticed that the holiday season was once again right around the corner and that another year was about to pass. Is it really possible? Didn't we just do this? I still have leftover fruitcake in the freezer. I wondered where the year went and then noticed my little boy running by. Last year at Christmas time he was barely crawling. Next year he will be smoking, I suppose.
“I'm still trying to figure out how to keep his hands off the Christmas tree ornaments other than hanging the tree from the ceiling.”
I did a double-take at the calendar and realized that I needed to get into gear. You know, that extra gear you shift into when something really big is on the agenda. I have written about the holiday season in the past and made mention of the whole mindset one must have to successfully wade through the sea of crap that accompanies the jingle of the bells. Ignoring your mental health during this time of year can be a tragic mistake, and not planning ahead can be fatal. No joke here, by the way.
I came out of last year's events relatively unscathed. The baby was only a few months old and had no clue what was happening. He ripped up some wrapping paper and sat on Santa's lap at the mall, but my wife and I really didn't have to do much else except dress him in a cute outfit and send out Christmas cards with him in an elf suit. This year I am guessing that same approach will not necessarily work. Handing the boy a box with some tissue paper isn't going to cut it. I'm pretty sure he is going to want something to actually be inside the box, and we are going to have to deliver the goods. I'm still trying to figure out how to keep his hands off the Christmas tree ornaments other than hanging the tree from the ceiling. If anyone has a suggestion please feel free to share.
My wife and I vowed to not spoil the kid with a bunch of useless stuff, and to keep the amount of presents reasonable and the content thoughtful, but I can't vouch for the rest of the family. Some people are bound to go way overboard, and by some people I mean grandparents, and maybe an aunt or two. But that is okay, it's kind of what they are supposed to do, right? On second thought, I better empty out the back of the Subaru wagon, those toddler gifts tend to get out of hand.
Not to sound hokey or cliché, but I don't want Christmas to really turn into a whole thing about presents and what to get the kid. More importantly, I don't want to have one of those kids who insists on having one of those toys that requires me to stand in one of those lines at one of those stores for six hours. Saying no is a difficult but necessary exercise in my opinion and I hope I can stick to it. My job as a good parent should be to help my son recognize at an early age what the holiday season is all about. But this notion got me wondering what the holiday season really is all about for me. And frankly, I wasn't sure.
Those who faithfully read my column know that in times of such moral crisis, I often solicit help from others. And if you are one of those who faithfully read my column, I hope you find yourself in good health and that your car is running fine. The joke here is that many (if not most) read the column while sitting in a doctor's office waiting room or while getting an oil change. Some of you are doing it right now. Anyway, this year I approached my holiday dilemma the same as always, relying on those close to me for their input.
It wouldn't be right to ask people their thoughts regarding Christmas during December when everyone feels warm and fuzzy about the subject, that would be too easy and likely produce misleading results. Like a good little sociologist, I was in search of reliability and validity, so I posed the question in the middle of September in an effort to catch everyone off guard. This apparently worked well, except for one guy who was actually looking for a picture of a dog in a Santa suit when he got my email. Why? I do not know. What I do know is that we tend to forget about Christmas until it is almost too late and the day is right upon us. That is, of course, unless we are five years of age and actually counting down the days by using one of those cardboard calendars with the flip-open doors. I remember one year I had one that we hung on the cellar door.
I asked a bunch of adults their thoughts on the holiday and got mixed results. A few men supporting families offered requisite responses like “debt” and “expensive” when they heard the word Christmas. So did one woman. Many others took me literally and answered the word association rather pragmatically by saying “tree” and “merry.” I can't argue with those responses. It warmed my heart that so many responded with thoughts of family when they considered the holiday season, but saddened me to see that a few actually thought of snow, a feat so rarely achieved in these parts on Christmas. But wouldn't a white Christmas be nice, traveling aside? Even just a nice dusting to coat the ground would really get everyone in the mood. Funny how cold snow warms the heart.
“The most ethereal response came from my preschool niece who with little prompting or solicitation said ‘angel.' Sweet.”
Many people appealed to their senses, citing music, carols, the scent of pine, the twinkle of lights and the aroma of freshly baked cookies. Cookies and Christmas fit like a hand in a glove, unless you are O.J. Oh sure, a bunch of answers included religious overtones, and a few mentioned the act of giving, but by and large the responses made reference to tangible items. The most ethereal response came from my preschool niece who with little prompting or solicitation said “angel.” Sweet.
I also asked a group of college students, many of whom are freshmen, of their association with Christmas and found that some gave responses similar to their adult contemporaries, while others focused more on receiving presents and just getting themselves to the holiday break in one piece. No doubt the tired freshmen were counting the days to their long-awaited hiatus between semesters. Those who answered “family” were probably getting their first taste of what it is like to be away from home.
So I tallied up the results and found that I honestly didn't learn much from my friends and cohorts. No offense to them, but there was nothing earth-shattering here, no profound concepts that I had not considered in the past. There were no new ideas to ponder in the years to come. The fact is that some folks are keen on giving and staying within the Christmas spirit, while others are keen on partying and taking in the Christmas spirits. It's all good, really.
I think the most significant thing I learned was that maybe it is okay for the holiday season to mean lots of different things to different people. In fact, maybe variety is the key. Sure, we should take seriously the needs of others, especially now, and know that Christmas is a season of giving, but maybe we should also be sure to celebrate and not feel guilty about it. This year, as in the last few years, I will make a commitment to consider the needs of others. But this year I will also make an equal commitment to celebrate with those close to me, and to cherish the moments rather than count the number of “good” years we have left. Peace.
by vince ramunni | illustration by melissa rose
