Christmas

Christmastime is here. Time for joy and time for cheer. But until yesterday, something was amiss.

Normally I’m in Christmas-mode as soon as we hit December; I’m ready to decorate, to sing carols and to give and receive gifts. Perhaps it’s a sign of my age, the fact that I’m leaving my youth behind and growing up, but something felt different this time around.

Even while trimming the tree, listening to the Vince Guaraldi Trio’s warm and comforting renditions of “O Tannenbaum” and “Greensleeves,” I didn’t feel like it was quite Christmastime. ‘Strange,’ I thought. His jazzy 1965 album, A Charlie Brown Christmas, could put me in the mood in June. The playful, tinkly tone of Guaraldi’s piano, sauntering along with the walking bass lines and ambling percussion, was the soundtrack to every single one of my twenty-eight Christmas’. I can still remember my dad telling me to settle down, lest my bouncing around make the record skip. Those songs have always been able to take me back. Instead I thought, ‘what am I doing with this tree? What Child Is This? This doesn’t feel right.’

Even while hanging multi-colored lights on my porch, even while wading through holiday crowds at the mall, even while being deluged with Santa-themed ads in the media -- I still wasn’t feeling that familiar Christmas spirit.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ I thought as the big day approached. ‘I love Christmas.’ The smell of the tree, the general air of peace and goodwill, the bell ringers, the friends, the family, the feast. None of it was on my mind.Maybe I haven’t had time to fully immerse myself in the joy of the season, maybe I haven’t let myself. One thing’s for sure: I put a lot of pressure on myself this year to get the perfect gifts for everyone on my list.

Gift-giving is one of my unique pleasures. A great gift is a reflection of my appreciation of the recipient. I get more excited when someone opens (and hopefully prizes) my gift than when I open theirs. I think about it all year, listening for clues and storing them away in the recesses of my mind. Once winter rolls around, I take stock of all the mental notes and set about tracking everything down -- that perfect toy, that elusive collectible, that item you’d never buy for yourself.

I ended up having a bit of trouble. I didn’t have a ton of loot to spend and I couldn’t make up my mind. The sweater or the mixing bowls? The Scotch or the weather station? The decisions were stressing me out as the deadline loomed.

Yesterday though, I made my final purchase and Hark, the herald angels sang. I was done shopping, I was done with the anguish. Christmastime was here! That joy-to-the-world feeling came over me. My stress gone, I'm now free to enjoy the holiday for what it is: an excuse to give gifts to the people I care about, to share good times with them, and give thanks for another year of life and love.

Merry Christmas to all.