I always remember the day after Christmas as one of those
days when your feelings were all mixed up. As a kid maybe you received
something special and you were elated and you couldn’t wait to try it out-- or
on. Or maybe despite all of your hints, you were disappointed in it all because
you weren’t old enough to realize what being selfish was all about. It was more
of a time of you receiving then giving anything, so the joy that came from
giving was largely absent. You did make your parents a gift in school but you
were disappointed when you heard your father whispering to your mom as she
opened it, “What in the hell is it?”
As a married adult with kids of your own you could only
wonder how in a few short hours, all of your work-- and most likely all of her
work-- in the preparation for the kid’s Christmas, had been reduced to a
cardboard box full of torn wrapping paper, a sink full of dirty dishes and the
dread of the bills coming in January. You remember how long after the kids had
gone to bed, sitting on the couch with your arm around her and a drink in your
hand, thinking how much she meant to you while she was thinking, “Who’s going
to clean up all of this mess.” But in a way you were glad it was over for at
least another year and you were most thankful that you still had each other.
As an old adult and a widower living alone you try to do
what you can to get in the holiday spirit. You drag out some decorations and
try to make the house look festive but the only one who sees them are you and
the dog, which outside of peeing on the tree he wasn’t that interested. You fill envelopes with money because
you don’t know what to buy anyone. Your kids are grandparents now themselves,
living three hours away and starting their own traditions, so at Christmas you
go there and try to fit in. There are way too many places to go, so you just
pick one. The excitement you used to have for getting gifts is ebbing. You have
everything you could possibly want. But you do still have a family that cares
for you, so who could ask for more.
25 years ago I used to go and pick up my father-in –law from
the nursing home at Christmas and bring him out to our place for dinner and the
evening. I would see the longing faces on those sitting in the day room in
their wheelchairs who had no one--no place to go. I felt so bad for them and
wanted to bring them all home for Christmas but somehow I realized my home was
not the home they wanted to be at. I wanted to sneak my father-in–law out the
back door just to avoid the longing faces. I tried to rationalize that maybe
they were alone because there was nobody left for them, or maybe there was
somebody but it wasn’t possible to bring them home for one reason or another.
Or God forbid. No one cared.
My Christmas this year was fine. People I love tried their
best to make me happy and that’s not always easy. I did enjoy going to Mass and
singing carols even though I sound terrible. Not as bad as that woman in front
of me though who I think got laced up too tight in that spangled dress. But all
in all, its time to move on with life so happy New Year everyone.------Mike
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