I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. ~ Charles Dickens
AUBURN, Maine — Whenever they walk through the door at the end of a day, I know I am one lucky SOB, and I don’t need a holiday to remind me of my precious family. For me, it is the most wonderful time of the year — all year long.
Losing loved ones and friends have taught us all that there is no certainty in life and our small worlds often change in a heartbeat when tragedy strikes. Nobody is here forever and time has a way of whittling down the herd.
But I see no harm in celebrating Christmas — a holiday that forces friends and family to take a timeout from multi-tasking and sit at a dinner table together without the distraction of computers and cell phones.
No Facebook, Twitter, or My Space! When we gather at the dinner table, face-to-face conversations begin — and no topic is taboo. Discussions about sports, religion or the morons who run Congress turn into a war of words as we look into the whites of our eyes. It’s not pretty, but it beats texting or posting nonsense on a social media Web site. There is nothing like a heated discussion at the dinner table. It’s pass the ham and fire off fusillade of acerbic opinions during Christmas dinner.
If you find a way to ignore the commercialism and pressure of emptying your wallet to outspend your family members for gifts, Christmas is a great excuse to sit on the sofa, watch Clarence set George Bailey straight and recover from a tryptophan high from the turkey. It also allows me to ponder the more important questions about “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I always wondered why Clarence didn't kick Potter’s butt all around the county for being so underhanded.
For me, Christmas and all the trimmings makes me realize that I was lucky enough to spend another year with my wife and son. The yuletide is also a not-so subtle reminder that there will come a day when our gatherings will cease.
With 1 and 6 Americans swelling the ranks of the poor, I feel fortunate and guilty at the same time for having enough money to cook a turkey and shrimp linguine for my family. There are gifts under the tree, food on the table and heat in the house.
I am damn lucky.
I am not an Ebenezer wannabe who saw this holiday as a humbug before a bunch of ghosts ganged up on the old sourpuss. What’s wrong with throwing up a tree and turning your house into a giant neon sign, anyway? Presents are welcomed and a belly full of turkey and an endless stream of pies give me a damn good excuse to make merry on this day.
For years, I travelled down the Maine turnpike to visit my parents and get together with nearly two dozen people on Christmas Eve. It was an event I looked forward to every year until my mother died and my father found out he had Alzheimer's - a cruel disease that is slowly and agonizingly destroying his mind. Over the years, death has whittled down my list of friends and family.
So I decided to remain in Maine and enjoy a quiet holiday. I haven’t stayed at home during Christmas in years, and I don’t miss the two-hour ride to Boston.
The next two days will be spent exchanging presents and eating good food on a cold winter mornings in front of a wood stove heated by ash wood that was given to me from a generous neighbor. I will chop wood, cook a big breakfast and large dinner — just the three of us on Christmas Day.
And when the tree comes down and the holiday lights are packed away, the memories of another loving Christmas with my son and wife will see me through the new year.
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