It took me some time to figure this out, but I think I finally have: I’m over Christmas.
The music, the movies, the commercials. The traditional specials coming on. I tire at the anticipation, the effort that goes into trying to find the perfect gifts for the people in my life and then tracking them down. I’m ambivalent at best about teacher presents.
I hate the cold weather, even if it’s usually only chilly with cosmetic snowfall. I enjoy the cozy feeling of getting out the jackets and hats and boots again, and the warmth of the furnace, the car heater, or the added layers of blankets that make it so easy to fall into spontaneous naps. But that’s all more of a side effect of hating the cold.
There are too many treats and parties. Being reminded of traditions can be uncomfortable. Decorating the tree and the house has become largely mechanical. Digging out all of the ornaments that have so many cherished memories attached to them doesn’t trigger the same nostalgia anymore.
I don’t hate getting time off from school, though. That’s great. That might be the exception.
I promise I’m not getting Grinchy in my later-middle-age. I didn’t used to be so down on all of this. I used to love it. I still go through the motions and routines of it all, but none of it has the same feel as it used to. It was all great family time and memory-building, and adding new bits of history each year.
It’s hard to feel celebratory about all the good family times and family memories when the family isn’t whole anymore.
By the way — Happy Birthday, Erin. Wherever you are.
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