So, it’s Christmas Eve. Well, to be more precise, it is 1:30 am on Christmas morning, and I cannot sleep. NO surprise there- I doubt anyone can sleep all the way through Christmas night. However, my sleep deprivation is not due to JOlly Saint Nick, or the lure of shiny presents under the tree, or just the overall excitement of yuletide spirit. It’s more the silence that keeps me from my bed.
CHristmas, in my family, has always been a jovial affair. I am the oldest of 17 cousins on one side (and that’s not even getting into my mom’s cousins), and the third youngest of 10 on my father’s side (not counting my cousin’s children). So, needless to say, the holidays involve a lot of noise and A LOT of food. And I love every second of it! BUt this year, when my parents decided we were having a small Christmas at home with just the four of us- me, my sister, Mom and Dad- I wasn’t quite sure what to think. A quiet Christmas just doesn’t sound normal to me.
In truth, thus far it has been very strange. There hasn’t been a single temper-tantrum, diaper change, wine spill, spaghetti splatter, or injury all week. The house is completely silent as I sit here by the tree: no crying, or laughing, or snoring. Just quiet stillness.
This is not what Christmas is supposed to be! Where are the endless games of hide-and-seek, the last minute runs to Walmart for more baby formula, the hordes of youngsters getting in the way of every step? Not here, that’s for sure!
As much as I’d like to blame my lack of cheer on the lack of chaos, I’m not entirely sure that’s the only reason I’ve been feeling… out of touch with Christmas. It would seem that my days of merrymaking are gone. I no longer see Christmas as the holiday around which my entire world revolves. The season, which was once so familiar and joyful to me, hardly even brings a change of pace. The day comes and goes, and with it my sense of innocence and naivety.
INstead of accepting the traditions required in such festivities, I find myself questioning them with a rather detached interest in any answer I might get. I start sounding like freaking Cindy Lou Who, for goodness’ sake! “Where are you Christmas? Why can’t I find you?” Is Christmas changing, or am I changing?
Bahumbug! I just can’t wrap my head around the idea anymore. I get the religious aspect,and to me that is still the most important part. But the gifts, and the fuss, and the caroling since Thanksgiving- it all just gets to be too much sometimes. It’s like the celebration gets dragged out for so long, that when the time actually comes I am too worn out to truly appreciate it.
With my Christmas-Meter down to a minimum, and my enthusiasm about to hit the floor, I stare into the lights and try to remember Christmases past. Like the time me and my cousins sat up all night, hoping to hear Santa drop off the presents (I still swear I heard jingling bells once or twice), and the time my uncle ate all the cookies before we had gone to bed. Then CHristmas meant excitement, innocence, and happiness. THe idea that nothing could wrong.
I think on to Christmases in my future. Coming home from college, from my job, and finally with my own family. I think of more stories to tell, and more people to tell those stories to. I think of nights that haven’t happened yet, and mornings that are only dreamed of. Christmases that I can share with those I already love, and those I will come to love eventually. All of this potential for happiness. This… hope for another happy memory, and another treasured tradition. Maybe hope is what Christmas is all about. Hope in humanity, hope in love, hope in a better future for everyone.
I’m not entirely sure if this is the answer to my questions, but I don’t think I really need a full-blown answer. Christmas is more than a specific date on the calendar- CHristmas is a mindset. One filled with wishes that come true, dreams that will one day be fulfilled, and the knowledge that we have many more Christmases to come.
So maybe the silence isn’t all so bad. I find that in the silence, it is much easier to hear what I might have missed otherwise.