A few years ago my parents downsized from their house overlooking the lake to a smaller but comfortable town home. A lot of their stuff wound up getting thrown out or given away or donated as they prepared for moving day. One afternoon I was looking through a pile in their garage that had been earmarked for downsizing, and found two boxes of glass Christmas tree bulbs that I immediately recognized. They were each designed in solid metallic colors with a variety of Christmas-themed landscapes intricately painted on the sides. Those bulbs were as much of Christmas for me as the blocky Styrofoam chimney my sisters and I had hung our stockings on each year, or the ugly string of yellow plastic bells that probably looked thirty years old the day they were bought, or the figures in the Nativity scene that at least one of my sisters and I treated like action figures more than we likely should have.
I was shocked to see those bulbs on the discard pile, even if they hadn’t been brought out and put on any Christmas tree for close to twenty years. I picked them up, carefully set them in my car and brought them home, thinking they were too precious to be done away with. The old bulbs added some holiday nostalgia to my own collection of ornaments, most of which are gifts from students. I used to keep student ornaments on a small four-foot tree in my classroom, but times have changed enough during my career that it made more sense to just bring them all home. I can’t say I’ve kept all of the ornaments, or mugs, or candles, or decorations, or food, or cards I’ve received from students over the years, but I’ve hung onto the items that were important to me. In fact most of my Christmas decorations have some meaning attached to them, and every year when I get them back out I wind up revisiting whatever memories they inspire.
My family always had a general routine around Christmas when I was young. It varied a little year to year, but it usually involved someone singing in a choir on Christmas Eve and all of us driving up to my grandmother’s in Superior either later that night or early on Christmas morning. I always enjoyed making the trip on Christmas Eve. I have distinct memories of sitting in the back seat of the car and watching the darkness outside pass by, only interrupted by the starlight above and occasional bursts of color from displays of holiday lights close enough to the highway for us to see. We’d listen to WCCO on a lot of those drives since the car radio could hold the AM signal longer. Any other time of year this would bore my childhood self into numbness, but on Christmas Eve it filled our car with songs and stories that made everything about the holiday somehow seem bigger and broader. And spending Christmas at my grandmother's house was unparalleled. Taking the time to describe every memory about it that made it special would only double the length of a post that's going to end up too long as it is.
As we got older, the routine became a visit to my cousin’s house for dinner and watching her young sons excitedly tear open a few early presents on Christmas Eve, followed by time with our own family on Christmas Day. Now those same two sons of hers are adults and have sons of their own. We still get together on Christmas Eve, but these days we’ll go out to dinner instead.
When I’m home during the Christmas season, I’ll almost always have holiday music playing in the background. I have enough of it in my music library so I don’t wind up hearing the same twelve tired songs over and over, and many of the songs have personal history and attachment for me. Some, in fact, go as far back as childhood, songs or albums that I added to my own library because the connections to my past were too strong to put aside. I can play the holiday music on shuffle and hear a good number of more contemporary songs in the mix, but when one of those older songs come up, something from my parents’ record collection that we only dug out for a few weeks every year, the house will just feel a little warmer for a few minutes.
The same could be said for holiday specials on TV as well. Back in the pre-VCR days of five channels to pick from, it was an absolute treat when any of the Christmas specials came on. My sisters and I would run around the house burning off our excitement in the minutes before they started, then sat unmoving on our enormous yellow couch until the closing credits rolled by. These days it’s more likely I’ll look for a favorite Christmas movie to watch if I’m in the mood, sometimes even bringing something up from On Demand. But I’ll admit to still making “A Charlie Brown Christmas” into appointment television every year. And it’s still too painful to sit through “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” knowing how much Erin loved it. I don’t imagine that will ever change.
I can remember seeing Christmas cards show up in the mail back in childhood, and feeling disappointed when they came from people I didn’t know. I’d wonder, who are these people I’ve never seen before? A part of me would hope they wouldn’t come over to catch up with our family, because that usually meant they would bring kids we didn’t know, and we’d be forced into the basement to play with these weird strangers for a few eternal hours while the adults visited. When I was old enough to start sending out my own Christmas cards, I did at first with almost a sense of obligation, thinking this was the kind of thing that adults were supposed to do. I went through the motions of it all, even making a couple of photo cards along the way, but my heart was rarely in it. I always enjoyed (and still do!) receiving cards much more than sending them.
Now I’ve pretty much given up on Christmas cards. I figure that anyone who knows me well enough to make it onto a potential card list is already familiar with my Groundhog Day of a life, and it’s not really worth the effort of sending out minor updates to people who are only a degree or two from my daily life or my social network. Maybe someday a year will arrive worth reporting the details and I’ll be inspired to start up with cards again, but for now here are the messages I would’ve shared with those important to me this year. I know many of the people I’d write to likely won’t see this -- or can’t, in some cases -- but here’s at least what I’d say, just in case they do. To save anyone (including myself) potential embarrassment, I’ll leave the list anonymous. I’d like to think the people who’d receive these messages would recognize which are directed toward them.
*You’ve had some ups and downs this year, but I’m happy things are ending with ups.
*Though it feels like I’ve had several older brothers my whole life, you were probably the closest to ever taking on that role for real. It was good having you around.
*I get why you worry, but you really don’t need to.
*It makes me feel good seeing the person and father you are.
*I’m glad you’re still around.
*I’m very happy about the life you get to have.
*You’ve been one of my closest friends for the better part of my life.
*Congratulations, good sir. You and yours have had quite the year.
*Even if I should know better, I trust you almost more than anyone else.
*As much stress as your life can bring, I like knowing you’re happier.
*I’m glad things are turning around for you. It’s well-deserved.
*Try not to break anything.
*You are becoming way more interesting than I ever would have predicted.
*Few people, if any, can make me laugh like you can. There are a lot of reasons why people enjoy being with you.
*You are, with good reason, probably the most universally loved person I know.
*It means the world to me knowing I’ve always been able to rely on you.
*I still don’t know why you worked so hard at steamrolling your way into my inner circle, but I’m glad you did.
*I feel as much at home with the two of you as I do anywhere else.
*I miss you.
*It sneaks up on me sometimes to realize how much history we have, but I’m glad it’s there. I’m amazed by who you’ve become.
*It’s been good seeing you pop your head up more this year.
*The times you included me when you didn’t have to made a huge difference.
*I’m thinking of you every day. I hope things are going in the right direction.
*Self-discovery isn’t always an easy path, but it’s important. Just make sure you don’t get stuck. Happiness is a goal worth chasing.
*You’re an incredible person, even if it doesn’t always feel like others appreciate that.
*I haven’t completely figured you out yet, but I’m glad I still get occasional chances to try.
Traditions don’t really fade away or disappear. They just evolve along with us, and become whatever we need them to be. Here’s hoping whatever traditions you and yours are either continuing this year or are just beginning will bring peace and happiness to your lives.
