Whimsy and Pathos

My children are at a perfect age to enjoy the "magic" of Christmas. I am not really fueling that, I'm just letting their whimsy setting reach its own level. For my money, today is still Advent. We've been lighting the Advent candles at breakfast all this week. A little controlled fire has an amazing effect on the younger set. They're excited about Jesus' birthday, but I haven't really clued them in as to when it's coming.

I haven't put up a Christmas tree for about 10 years. The last one I had was left on our porch by my husband's business partner who thought it sacrilegious to have no tree. Since then, it's been really too much of a hassle for me to bother with. And our space is really, really limited in our cozy little house. [But you regular readers know that.] Christmas festivities and decorations are an "out there" phenomena. I completely enjoy seeing the trees, lights, manger scene, et al at Church, at relatives, at friends', at work. But that's as far as it goes. This year I considered getting a tree to put up in the basement tonight so that the kids could see Santa's handiwork. But Dave talked me down from that ledge. So, no tree chez Adams. Will Christmas still come?

We have been teaching the children that Christmas celebrates the birth of Baby Jesus. We're planning His birthday party for tomorrow. We all join in by sharing birthday presents. I think I will hang the streamers and blow up balloons, just like I would if any of my family members had a birthday. I want to avoid setting myself up for a command performance every year. I don't want to pass on the notion that "if you don't have x, it's just not Christmas."

This year is the first Christmas in my life without my father drawing breath somewhere on planet earth. Christmas is always one of Mom's favorites. Her birthday is Epiphany, and I suspect she always got the short end of the stick being the 6th of 9 children in a Depression-era family. I think she compensated by embracing Christmas as the birthday season she shared with her Savior.

Our house was always happily festooned and some scrumptious yummies were only made at Christmas time. We always did Mass on Christmas morning and were forbidden from opening the presents until afterward. [The one concession was we got to open one gift in our stocking before Mass.] I have a treasury of memorable gifts [that all draw a big ticket on eBay these days], and lessons, but mostly it was the excitement, the anticipation, the day of unfettered fun with my siblings. I loved watching Mom tear up bread the night before and stuff the turkey on Christmas morn. I loved the carols. I loved practicing the carols on the piano and having a cease-fire with my sister long enough to learn the duets. I loved being with my family because the sense of security and devotion and love it instilled in me. Was Christmas the things? Or the lights? Or the trinkets? To some extent, I guess, the answer is yes. But there's the heart of Christmas that cannot be touched by those surface things.

Without my dad, it just can't be Christmas. But he's gone on and Christmas is here.