Battle Humbug

Everyone has different holiday traditions. In my family these include waiting until the last minute to decorate, and bickering over the best way to set up a tree. After a few years of cutting trees down from our own yard, my parents finally got a better idea. They didn't go as far as an artificial tree, since that would somehow be a blasphemous representation of a co-opted pagan symbol. No, instead my mom transplanted a tree to a giant pot which we keep in the yard during the year, alive and thriving, and lug in the living room for a few weeks during the Christmas season.

Don't ask me how, but my dad somehow lugged the thing inside on Tuesday while my mom wasn't looking and I was at the office. I took off for Christmas Eve, so I was able to help get the thing on to its platform. “Lift...LIFT!!!” yelled my dad as I struggled, mentally telling myself to lift with my knees. I got the thing up, he got the red and green fabric and plastic covering on the platform, and I lowered it in place. Oh, there may have been some more yelling in between there, a point where I was told to “yell a little louder so the neighbors can hear”, and definitely some spillage when I lifted it because the soil had soaked up a lot of moisture from the rain and snow these past few days. But in the end, we got the thing set up and strung with lights.

We opted to go to a 7 PM mass rather than midnight, which is well beyond an elderly couple's bedtime. I was the first one dressed and in the car this year, simultaneously avoiding the tradition of the “Why do you like to be late all the time?” fight while warming up the vehicle. It had been raining all day, and I dropped them as close to the door as I could before finding a parking spot. I shivered in the rain, wishing I'd worn a jacket over my suit while imagining how I'd look as a Frank Miller drawing. The church wasn't as packed as it usually is on holidays, although there were a few new faces, including a young blonde in a tight short skirt that kept tugging my eyes away from the altar.

The priest gave a great sermon, talking about how back in his homeland in Africa there are trees that intertwine and grow tall with the assistance of other trees. He reminded us that no man is an island, and that we all grow as a community, supporting one another. The pastor came out at the end to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and remind newcomers that they are welcome all year round. When I stepped outside, I was pleased to discover the rain had stopped. There were a few icy patches, but I didn't fall as I had while walking up a hill to the post office earlier in the day.

It's easy to get stressed out this time of year. I was in a panic on Tuesday with all the stuff I had to get done for work by next week, but there's only so much one person can do. I had concerns about waiting until Wednesday to start wrapping, yet I got most of it done in under two hours. Even the annual family bickering was a lot tamer, only one outburst while I struggled to lift the tree. It's the miracle of the season when we forget all the stuff that drives us crazy, even the season itself, and battle the humbug feeling. I hope everyone has a happy and safe Christmas, or any other holiday you might be celebrating! And remember, there's only 364 shopping days until the next one....