Where are you Christmas?

I usually LOVE Christmas. I mean, really love it. My house always looks like Santa threw up in it and I’m annoyingly chipper and happy. I surprise people with presents, I visit old friends, I rejoice in the snow. Christmas lights make me smile and singing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs makes me feel free (though quite obnoxious to everyone else).

This year feels so different and I’m not really sure why. I’m trying everything I can to “catch the spirit”. I am listening to the music and podcasts. I am shopping up a storm, making sure to find the perfect presents for everyone on my list. I’m watching countless stupid Hallmark movies where the one attractive female and one attractive male hate each other at the beginning of the movie but somehow fall madly in love on Christmas day and have a magical kiss as the snow falls… over and over again. I try not to throw up in my mouth, and then power through another one. I’m trying. But so far I’ve become more jaded than usual. I’m cursing the snow and kind of dreading the vacation time.

Day after day, I’ve been hoping that I can feel even a little bit of the magic. Surely it will kick in. Eat one more Christmas cookie. Donate to one more charity. Sing one more song. However so far, nadda. Zilch.

But then today my double zipper got really stuck and I was trapped in my winter coat. Eventually I shimmied out of it, dropping a slew of f-bombs. Now in my life, this particular event wouldn’t rank as catastrophic in the least. Today however, it stopped me in my tracks. My dear Grandma used to always fight with double zippers. They always got stuck for her and I always had to help her. My beautiful Grandma and her cursed double zippers.

Suddenly, I stopped cursing loudly and stomping my feel like a two year old who just flushed her rabbit down the toilet, and just smiled. Even today, she is still such a bright light in my life. If you ever had the chance to know her, you would smile too. She brought light and love to every place she went. She loved everyone (and I’m not exaggerating). I truly can’t remember a time that she ever hated on anyone. She had this ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered when you were visiting. She found the positives in people and focused all of her attention there. She breathed life into every situation. Even when she knew she was dying, she would say, “Oh Lisa, it’s like I’m sliding downhill and I’ve found a really smooth patch…” Every time we hung up the phone or I left from a visit, she would hug me tight, say she loved me, and say good-bye, like it might be the last time. One day it was.

It’s strange, she’s actually been gone almost as long as I got to have her in my life. And yet still, I can remember everything about her. And she sure loved Christmas! She was a faithful, Christian woman who loved the Christmas season because of her faith. But she also loved it because it meant family, friends and strangers would get together and celebrate their love for each other. I’m also fairly sure her love for jello molds ranked near the top of that list too.  

At a young age, I can remember how many shiny ornaments she had on her tree with those foil cups around the lights. I remember her house had orange lights outside – the only one on the block. She always had the advent candles in the kitchen window. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were a sea of family and friends, inevitably ending with a music jam in the basement with family and neighbours. Later, Christmas moved to my parents’ house where my Uncle could be heard playing the piano that had been moved from Grandma’s house and my Dad thumping on drums, or spoons, or pretty much any hard surface. She would always wear her best suit and we would all have to watch the Queen’s address. And the card games! I would always fall asleep before the winner was declared. Food abounded. Love was extended to all.

Years later, while living in a senior’s residence, my Grandma would keep her poinsettia alive until April or May. For her, it was like preserving the season. She plopped that plant on her walker and slowly marched it to the other end of the building each day. The light was better, she told me.

Despite all of my memories of my Grandma, I can’t remember the gifts she gave me. I know that there were many and that I loved them. There is no question that I was spoiled and she always gave what she could. But the actually material goods of Christmas have not been stored in my memory.

Everything I remember is based on how I felt. How she made me feel so safe and loved. Not all Christmas memories are good ones I can assure you, but either way, the material goods either given or received, are a complete blur.

I mention all of this because I had forgotten the lessons my Grandma had taught me. I had forgotten that I couldn’t “catch the spirit” but rather I have to make it. I could shop all day long but the real rewards would come from the human connections I make and the time I share with people.

At a time when spending face to face time with people without the distraction of a phone or the tv has become so rare, it can almost feel uncomfortable. It’s hard to shake that nagging feeling that something is happening out in the world and I’m going to completely miss it. I needed the reminder that being present with the people we love is so much more important than bringing a present.

As I sit here and think about Christmases past, I honestly can only remember conversations, laughter, tears, music, and of course, my Mom’s banana squares. I think about surprising one of my favourite humans with music from her late father. I think about being able to help a family in need of a Christmas. I remember my Mom giving me the present of the memory of my Dad. I think of Christmas parties surrounded by friends. I think of my best friends coming over to decorate my tree and drink wine. I remember the annual tree decorating at my sister’s which almost always included some kind of hilarious catastrophe.

I think the Christmas season brings with it a lot of stress. We all want to fit in all the parties and gatherings, buy the right presents, get the right outfits and make the right food. There is financial stress and time crunching and sometimes grief and sadness. However, if we shut out the noise for a bit I think we can also see the beautiful opportunity to connect with people. Chances to catch up and build new holiday memories that may just help us through a future Christmas where things don’t look so bright.

I know that we end up doing many things we really don’t want to do during the holiday season. But I’m thinking of my Grandma right now and remembering her perspective – if there is someone wanting to spend time with you, be grateful and be present.

Imagine if you could be responsible for the memory someone has 20 years from now. The happy memory that helps erase the crappiness of the last year.

I suspect I will continue to struggle with that stupid zipper but instead of cursing, I’ll smile. I’ll smile because people have loved me enough to create happy holiday memories for me. I’ll smile because maybe I’ll find a way to do the same for others.