It’s the Sunday after Thanksgiving.
We don’t have too many traditions in our family, but one of them is that today is the day we start Christmas - the day the tree goes up.
I remember the day my father stopped loving Christmas.
I remember the day Christmas became more of a reminder of happy times gone by, rather than the gift and celebration of family and life.
The last few years putting up the tree has felt a little more like a chore than a treat...
I understand, more than ever, that ‘exhaustion’ or ‘sadness’ that I’ve seen in older friends and family as we near the holidays.
And, I am sad and a little embarrassed to admit that I had joined them...
But, this is a new Sunday, in a new year, and instead of feeling the heaviness of times gone by - today, I am calling on the little boy inside of me to help me...
I am calling on the little boy that loves Christmas... the music, the colorful lights, the cheer, the story, the time off... and I am getting that little boy to help me.
That little boy who loved putting up X-mas trees so much, that I would go to the homes of some of the older residents in my building to help them put up theirs...
As I bring up the tree, I am going to remember my father and how much he used to love X-mas, my mom was never a big fan (I think in rebellion to my father’s love for it). I am going to remember how very inspired and happy my father would get during the holidays. It was the happiest I ever saw him.
I am going to enjoy whatever time I can borrow from my boys to help. I am going to be grateful for the beautiful home we have - that I dreamt of having as a boy.
I am going to pause on those special ornaments that remind me of special moments and people in our lives.
The gifts under the tree are much less important to me than they were to the little boy inside of me. But, the gifts that the tree reminds me of - the gifts that I have around the tree and not under it are still being unwrapped with every year that passes.
I have always loved Christmas because it brings people together in celebration... for whatever reason it filled me with joy and hope as a boy, and I am going to allow it to fill me again.
Maybe now as an adult - it is both exciting for the joy and hope for the world around me and to come - as much as for the many X-mases already enjoyed...
It was easy as parents to be inspired for our boys when they were kids - because in many ways their energy for X-mas was contagious.
But, I should not need their “energy” to find my hope and joy for X-mas... in fact, maybe I should be the one showing them the way.
I realize for those more relegious, I am leaving out the true spirit of X-mas, the Celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ.
Christmas has become so full and confusing - but ultimately for me - it is a celebration of life and family... and a moment to celebrate “God” however you define him (or her ;-)...
My point today is this...
X-mas this year won’t be a chore.
It won’t be a box to check.
X-mas will be an opportunity to let the child in me dream, and play, and love and remember...
I don’t want my boys someday in the future to think about the day “Dad stopped loving X-mas” ...
I don’t want to miss the joy and beauty and magic of the season...
It’s a beautiful time of year - whether for you it’s the celebration of the birth of Jesus, or the celebration of the end of another year lived, or the celebration of friends and family...
And, who knows... maybe somewhere through dimensions I don’t understand or simply deep in my own heart and mind... loved ones who are no longer with us will join in the celebration.
It’s a magical time...
to experience,
to reflect,
to be present,
and to shine our light and love on those we care about most...
Heading down to the basement once more...
in my PJs...
There’s beauty and memories and magic in those red boxes sitting in the back of the storage.
Santa Clause is coming to town.
We need to get ready. ..
in harmony,
Nestor