“I wanna go back to
those days
Stop time, replay
just one more night
Just one more day
Can't go back to
those days
Can't stop, replay
Take the time
Don't let Christmas
pass you by”
(Don’t Let
Christmas Pass
You do not
have to be a Christian to celebrate Christmas and embrace the Yule. You don’t
need the tactile to feel the spirit. You don’t need three wise men or angels
singing up above. You don’t need to believe. You don’t even need God. With
Christmastime, for anything spiritual, there is always a replacement, a
secular. Christmas is available to anyone, to every one no matter their origin
and background. There is something about the festive season that attracts even
the most hardened heart. Childhood glee and a sense of belonging usually return
with Santa Claus each year. Granted, the holiday season is different as an
adult. As we get older, we are supposed to put childish things behind us and
exist in the cold hard truth of this life. Considering my experience, you would
think that Christmas would have suffered the same fate.
There is
just something about the festive season that still activates the child in me. Every
year, as the day passes, I tell myself “not next year” then by the following
autumn I am completely taken away again. There is no long transition when it
comes to its return. Even a hint and it
starts all over again; usually come Christmas in July. Like clockwork, every
year, I almost believe in Santa Claus. I almost believe in Jesus. I cannot help
but to venerate the Christmas experience regardless of what my individual
experience might be. People practice Christmas to each their own way. Some
people believe there was a little drummer boy standing at the stable basked in a
reverent Holy light. Some people see reindeer flying through the night. The
very message of Christmas remains the same. It comes but once a year. How you
rediscover it doesn’t really matter.
The further I walk down my path, the
greater the need for the familiar, for touchstones I can use to measure. Memories
can be more real than any world around us. Life would be unbearable without
them. Christmas is all about memory. Its about seeking the same sense of safety
that we felt as a child. Yes, Christmas can be about family. It can be about a
peace on earth and good will towards men. Christmas may well be about a child,
born in a manger come to set all men free. It is all these things and more. We
each come from a different story but each of us are bound by a searching soul.
We are travelers, each of us looking to explain our life as we walk towards our
death.
“So take down the
stockings, take back the sweaters
Take down the lights
and the star and the tree
But don’t let this
world take your joy after Christmas
Take joy to the world
and just sing
Happy day after
Christmas
And merry rest of the
year
Even when Christmas
is over
The light of the
world is still here”
(The Day After Christmas, Matthew West 2011)
Once Christmas
is over, I can finally take some me time. I get to relax and take it easy. After
months of yuletide flavour, the last thing I want just after Christmas is more
Christmas. By Boxing day it’s over and people need to let it go. The one post-Christmas
tradition I follow each year is eating almost a whole turkey, leftover in the
fridge. l suck the bones dry well knowing no other bird will show up until
Easter. December 26th has
never been about shopping for me, its all about dismantling. I spend that
evening sorting through my gifts and organizing everyone else’s. I indulge,
sampling all the goodies left over from the big day. There is no Christmas
music. There are no more gifts, no more spectacle. No holiday offerings flash
before me and I may even turn off the tree if the mood strikes me. Finally, the
peace and quiet I well deserve finds me. By the very next day, I have already
started to put it all away.
I don’t
love Christmas because of Jesus even though he is, for obvious reasons, a large
part of my Christmas tradition. I don’t embrace Christmas for the lights, the
decorations or the festivities. There is no part of me that believes the way I
did when I was growing up. Any yuletide wonder now comes through memory. Christmas
is still my favourite place. For the later half of the year, it is the prime location
of my greatest joys and sweetest sorrows. If nothing else, Christmas is a
reminder that there is more to this world than just the tangible. Therein lies
the hope that those things wished for may be seen and felt and known. Christmas is never really over. It lingers
about like Jesus.
“A tale of love that
never dies
The laughter in the
children's eyes
The child in me is
always there
Christmas is my
favorite time of year”
(Christmas is My Favorite Time of the Year, Kenny Rogers 1981)
This Christmas season has been a
challenge for me. With the death of my father in November, it has been
difficult being merry let alone jolly and festive. Christmas will have to wait
until next year. I put up the tree. I decorated the house. I gave gifts like I
normally would. Regardless, this Christmas has been rather awful. Every song,
every jingle is a trigger for more pain and more heartbreak. It's just not
Christmas, and the way I feel I’m not sure it can ever be again.
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