December 22, 1964
I finally finished my Christmas shopping! Handkerchief for Dad and a 1000 piece puzzle for the family. I almost collapsed when I saw that puzzle! The pieces are only 1/2” high! We’ll all go stark raving mad trying to put it together! Ah, well, it’s all in fun.
I can’t wait for Christmas!
WHEEE!
December 22, 2022
As I retrace this season from so many decades ago, I can’t ignore how my enthusiasm for Christmas has faded. By the time I was in my teens, the “reason for the season” was no longer the miraculous (and probably mythical) birth of Jesus. The magic was still there, in the lights and the music, which transported me out of my otherwise boring existence. My delight in the gifts I chose and gave to others is clear on every diary page, and actually exceeded my interest in whatever presents I might have received. I didn’t know what I wanted, so how could my family possibly know?
Today, I find myself struggling to get back in touch with the person who used to get up in the middle of the night, creep downstairs to turn on the lights in the family tree and just sit in a nearby chair, whispering “Christmas!!!” and hugging herself with anticipatory delight. Over the years, my focus has shifted from the Nativity to the Solstice, and from gifts to gatherings. COVID disrupted my favorite traditions: attending the Washington Revels, a holiday sing-along around our piano (Deck Us All With Boston Charlie!), Christmas Day brunch with my family. This is our year to have a “merry little Christmas”: just the two of us, and perhaps a Zoom or two. And lots of music, with the lights twinkling on our IKEA tree.
I leave you with a poem I wrote last year.
Christmas 2021
I’m dreaming of a Zoom Christmas
Just like the one we had last year.
From our far-off places, we’ll see your sweet faces
And pretend it’s just like being near.
I’m dreaming of a Zoom Christmas
With every ecard that I send.
May your days be merry, my friend
And may the reign of Covid soon end.