Thank God it Only Happens Once a Year

I tried my best to ignore Christmas this year.

It's no secret that it's my least-favorite holiday. It really has nothing to recommend it - it's where unpleasant family obligations, crazed overeating, ugly decorations, and rampant spending collide. The worst thing is that the whole dog and pony show starts in October now, and the last decorations don't come down until the middle of January, so that's three months of the year that I get to enjoy Christmas. One day out of four.

It's been something I tolerated for as long as I can remember, but last year Christmas and I reached a sort of uneasy detente. Dear Husband and I hosted a really lovely Christmas Eve get-together for a bunch of friends and had another big group over for Christmas Day brunch. It was a really happy couple of days that threatened to redeem Christmas once and for all.

This year promised to be less than festive, so I got my shopping done early and decided to completely ignore the holiday. Christmas Eve day dawned sunny and warm, and promised to behave like any other day. I planned to take the dogs to the park, clean my apartment, and spend a couple of hours reading a good book.

But there were immediately a couple of kinks in my plan. The first one came early - I received a big bag of really lovely presents that were lovingly chosen just for me. The crown jewel of this fantastic bag of booty was a sock-monkey mermaid. I've already learned that there are people in the world who are unable to appreciate that this is the most fabulous present ever. But they are just jealous, because they did not receive a sock-monkey mermaid themselves.

The second event occurred just a few hours later. I was at the park with the dogs, mindlessly throwing the ball over and over like I do every day, when a group of about 10 people straggled into the park and started singing Christmas carols. They didn't seem to mind that their entire audience consisted of three homeless guys, two dogs, and me. Their thready voices reached me all the way on the other side of the park, and I was surprised to realize that I knew the words to every song. I got a little teary-eyed.

I realized why Christmas always makes me feel so sad - it usually reminds me of everything I've lost, everything that's missing, everything I think I want and don't have. But I need to remember the pagan roots of this holiday - it's a time of renewal, rebirth, a reminder that spring will come again. It's a time to embark on a new path, and to leave things behind that are no longer useful.

So it's turning out to be not so bad a holiday after all. I'm trekking my friend K out to the insanity at G's house in Palm Springs, which is always entertaining. I haven't lost much that's worth keeping, and spring is on the way. And most importantly, I have a sock-monkey mermaid. Life is good. Merry Christmas.