And so I find myself at the crossroads of the Holidays, just past Christmas but not quite New Year. This time of year has always been a bit difficult for me, but not completely in a bad way. I willingly and gleefully embrace my blatant love for the Holiday Season, a love ingrained by a mother, may she rest in peace, who some would say had an almost unhealthy love for Christmas. I will, however, always defend that love of the season which she gave me. Not to mention her age-old and largely Southern tradition of “if it doesn’t move, decorate it.”

This year is a bit different, of course. Like many, I pared the decorations and presents down in this economy. Instead, I tried to concentrate more on the true meaning of the season. I put up the first real tree of my adult life, having always used an artificial tree which I could easily persuade to hold all of the lights and ornaments my over-eager hands could hang. A Frasier Fir is my partner this year, because that is the kind I had always wanted…just like the trees in the antique postcards and old-time books my mother so cherished. And the presents glittered even a bit more brightly and warmly under that tree, although there were fewer of them. This was the year of “getting the presents right,” not “getting the right presents.” And not every room got the “full treatment,” no decorated garlands on all the mirrors lit by the unsightly extension cord hanging down the wall, no four-foot wreath on the front of the house drenched in the artificial daylight of a floodlight. Just some real greenery sprinkled about with a minimum of trimmings, greenery supplied for free with a smile and a “Merry Christmas” by the gentleman at the tree lot. But the candlelight sparkled just the same, if not even sharper and more pure.

And now I am at the point where the glitter on the floor makes me think about how many weeks it will take to actually clean up, and the crunch of the evergreen needles on the carpet makes me remember how long I have borrowed this tree from nature. It is time to release it, it is time to pack it away, it is time to finally deal with the stack of gift boxes empty of treasures but still full of the tissue my “green” self fears throwing away.

But not quite yet.

I still have a few days, a few days to try and remember why it is so important to me. Not the work, not the expense, not the stress, not even the gifts which I have begun to incorporate with the rest of my belongings. It is the love, the warmth, the spirit of the season which is important, regardless of WHY you celebrate it. It is that simple extra smile of a friend or loved one, or better yet of a complete stranger, even if it happens only once a year. It is that warm feeling you get when you open a greeting card from one you had not thought of in a while. As corny as it sounds, I do truly believe that Christmas IS the most wonderful time of the year, and that if every day COULD be just like Christmas, what a wonderful world this would be. We all know the songs.

And so I will hold on to it all just a few more days, a few more days until my heart tells me it is okay to let it go, until the New Year reminds me it is time to start anew. Then I will pack it away with a smile and remember I have new memories to cherish. And I will look forward to doing it all over again.

Always,

John