“And I’d give it all away,
Just to have somewhere to go to,
Give it all away,
To have someone to come home to”My December – Linkin Park
Oh, December in the Raivenne household was always a hoot. The normally wannabe sophisticate, über-urban, gal-about-town, known and be-loathed all over, transforms into this insane “OhMyGAWDCanYouBeliveIt’sAlmostChristmas!” beast. The weekend after Thanksgiving I (and begrudgingly the boys) would start dragging the decorations out and begin the annual tradition of transforming the abode into holiday splendor.
When we were living in an apartment, it was all confined to just the living room. However, once we had a HOUSE, oh good Lord! I spared my family from decorating the bedrooms upstairs, but man did I didn’t vomit the holidays every where else! Each year, I moved the TV because the tree just HAD to be close to the window in order to be seen from the street. The front porch and steps had their own garlands and lights. If you stood on the porch you could see all the little buildings and figures that graced the inside windowsill. The dining room had the Kwanza set. The kitchen and powder room would get holiday colored towels and mini decorations. Yeah, my family thought I lost my damned mind each and every year. And as curmudgeonly as all three males in the house would behave at the start of the process, at least the boys would catch some of my Christmasfluenza and get into the decorating spirit.
The hubby always stayed the Scrooge of the house; right down to his “Bah Humbug” black and white Santa hat, but deep down he enjoyed my shenanigans just as much. One December I was depressed and refused to decorate. I think he thought if he waited me out I would pop into it, how could I not? When it was December 20th and no one iota of holiday décor was up, he got it. Mr. OhComeOnNotAllThisShitAgain? Was the one who got the boys and dragged decorations out that year. Yes, HUBBY went and got the decorations – that is how much he knew this was important to me and what a serious funk I was in to not be doing so. He was that desperate to do anything, even decorate for Christmas, to help me out of it. The guys started to decorate the tree, but were doing such a horrible job of it the Virgo in me kicked in. Still, since my heart was not in it, which was the worst tree I have ever put up, to date.
I had not felt that bad again until the first Christmas after I became a widow. Still, I put up the holiday decorations that first year without him (or the boys, now men on their own, to help me) it was a lovely tree. Christmas 2007 was the last time I all out decorated and put up a tree. I moved in 2008 and all of my holiday stuff, including most of my spirit, is away in storage. Something simple on my front door is about all I have been able to muster doing these past years for decorating.
I’m almost done with filling out this year’s Christmas cards (and man is my wrist tired!). I am thinking about what to put on my door for this year, but that’s all. Still. It is only December 2nd and who knows? After a near three-year hiatus, maybe the Christmasfluenza bug will strike me again; I really do not know. Nevertheless, for right now, this very moment, the above verse from Linkin Park is my holiday song.
This is my December.
For the first time in the two years after my sister died and my marriage essentially collapsed, I have felt the slightest tingle, jingle, what-have-you, of Christmas Spirit. Like you, my home used to resemble a Christmas village and was the centerpiece of our holiday dinners where everyone was invited. We wore those god-awful sweaters, drank egg-nog and ate gingerbread while watching the Grinch over and over and then I got sick. Lisa died and to deepen the blow, her birthday was Christmas Eve, and my husband and I were living together but no longer speaking.
Lately however, I’m missing Christmas. The little snowflake gif your blog has going on tickles me, I’m sipping coffee laced with gingerbread flavored creamer and am about to go out and buy a real tree and wreath. I don’t know what it took to come around, to come alive again. To want to live and enjoy rather than simply exist but perhaps for the first time in a long time, this is my December too.
Merry Christmas, Raivenne.