Two weeks ago, my 19-year-old texted that Christmas shopping was stressing her out. I replied, “Christmas has stressed me out every.single.day of my life.” That’s not true though. In elementary school I enjoyed choosing gifts at the Santa Shop for Mom & Dad (with their money). For their anniversary two days after Christmas, I always regifted a present that I felt most represented: “Thank you for staying married.” Sometimes that was a Rubik’s Cube and sometimes it was candy, but the sacrifice made me feel kind, not stressed.
While attending high school and college, I was always able to pull off a gift for each family member, although the giving may have had to be after December 25th. Waiting for an additional pay day or the ability to regift was sometimes what it took, but no one expected much from an almost adult still in school. So, upon reflection, Christmas didn’t stress me out the first half of my life. It’s only felt like Santa was flipping me off since I had to pretend to be him.
My same “stressed-out” child told me she wasn’t going to play the Santa Claus game when she’s a parent. She is going to tell her kids the truth as there’s simply too much work involved in working for, shopping for, paying for and wrapping presents just to hand over the credit to a chubby guy.
I, too, as a single mom of 3 considered dropping the charade when my kids were little. I had to have childcare lined up just to purchase the “from Santa” gifts. Then, some of the gifts had to be constructed in secret, and then hid, along with the long tubes of special Santa wrapping paper, in a 1,250 square foot apartment that was already bursting at the seams. Finally, as an exhausted zombie waking to a middle-of-the-morning alarm, I delivered the gifts, as silently as possible, while my three cherubs slept. None of this stealthy behavior came easily to me and paying for the gifts while still meeting rent and utility and car due dates wasn’t exactly a walk in the park either. Still yet, I ultimately followed the masses in all of the normal Christmas traditions. Even if I didn’t mind being different than the other families around us, I didn’t feel right about making that choice for my kids.Â
Of course Christmas was always my favorite holiday while I was growing up. Since my family was not the church-going type, my love had zilch to do with the true meaning behind the day. My excitement was strictly based on all the hoopla that comes with Christmas, which now I swear was a governmental scheme with Hollywood to get shoppers to spend as much as possible at the end of the calendar year. (I still ponder in awe at the lack of connection between the birth of Christ with indoor decorated trees, stockings, Santa, a sleigh & reindeer.)
Every time my children asked me if Santa was real, I retold the story that my sister and I still vouch as true to this day: Being the youngest in the house and unable to sleep, it was my duty to get up periodically in the wee hours of Christmas to see if the presents had yet to make it around the tree. On one such night, I saw Santa in the act. He was a mist that I could see through as he placed presents at the base of the tree. Obviously startled as hell, I tripped while rushing back to my room to get my sister. When we got back to the living room, Santa shushed us, pressing his white-gloved pointer finger to his lips. And then he vanished.Â
This memory, created decades before my introduction to liquor and cannabis, was my one nugget of the Magic of Christmas to hold on to. In my 20s, living alone, I came home late from a holiday gathering, money and energy both entirely spent. I checked my mailbox and found a check from my college for a loan overpayment. This became my new Magic of Christmas story.
Seeing Christmas through the eyes of my children carried the Magic on for awhile. But, when I became soley responsible for the holiday and all of its traditions for three other humans, I felt like a huge weight was laid on my chest right as Thanksgiving dinner was cleaned up. Add to that Indiana’s nearly no-sun December and the strong corporate Christmas momentum that begins a bit before Halloween. The feeling of depression and overwhelm during the holiday month is visceral.
My son, a college student, recently said that when he receives a gift, although he appreciates it, he simultaneously feels bad because he couldn’t afford to purchase a gift for the giver. I know this “not-enough” feeling all too well.Â
Gift giving feels good! The anticipation of the joy, relief or excitement that will be experienced by the receiver when the present is opened is intrinsically gratifying to the giver. However, finding the perfect gift for someone, immediately followed by the reminder that the money available barely covers mandatory needs and gifts, feels the opposite of good. Might I add that Christmas music blaring when trying to decipher the accounting of presents left to purchase subtracted from the money left to do so is also the opposite of good.
I’ve always figured that the people who get all jazzed up about Christmas are the ones who have the extra money for the holiday.  But now I think Christmas actually helps some people’s spirits feel light. The trials of life besides the lack of money, like excruciating body pain, mental anguish, grieving the first or another Christmas without a loved one, (the list could go on infinitely) don’t just go away because Jesus was born and Santa is coming to town. But maybe the Magic of the season helps lighten the load for some. These “some” just aren’t me. I’m guessing they also don’t include the southside drivers who have blared their car horns in holiday traffic because it wasn’t moving quickly enough.
The Friday after this year’s Thanksgiving, I woke up knowing that money-wise, this Christmas would be no different than any other of my adult years. Like cleaning the toilets, though, sometimes you simply just do what you’ve got to do. I decided to clench my jaws, bare down, and get through the holiday without hem-hawing or complaining. I still experienced that heavy, hard-to-breathe feeling coupled with exhaustion at times, I just resolved not to extrapolate or discuss it. I knew I would eventually feel the Magic of Christmas. It usually occurs in a small moment, when it’s least expected and oftentimes seems to wait as late as possible. Truly, and thankfully though, it turns up each and every year.
About four days before Christmas, my son asked to borrow earphones and my daughter said she might need a bit of help paying for a beauty appointment. Because I have better timing than Santa (and I know my children very well) I was able to give them the gifts they needed (ear buds & a gift certificate) when they needed them, with no stress or rules about waiting for the exact present day. They were happy. I was happy. Simultaneous happiness with teenagers can be considered Magic.
I walked my dog on the rare, warm Indiana Christmas morning. It was simple and nice and had that pure feeling, which I think is what my Magic is nowadays, be it December or July. I watched my children enjoy unwrapping gifts, some of which still need to be paid for with some interest tacked on. When everyone parted ways, I cleaned up the mess. Although it’s the unpopular opinion, somewhere along the way, Christmas fell from the top of my list of favorite holidays. Still yet, the yuletide carries just enough power & Magic that the decorations will be safely packed away for next December.
I feel this to my soul!!! This year I didn’t get that “Christmas Magic” feeling I usually get. Depression won. I gritted my teeth and put on a smiling face when my family came over for the dinner that I cooked solely on my own. My gReAt husband was not a nice spouse the entire day. So, I felt the embarrassment that he should have felt in front of his inlaws. But….I made it! The day went on regardless of his mishaps. I turned water into wine so to speak. The holiday is over. I can breathe a sigh of relief. Until the credit card bills start coming in next week. I will again make resolutions to not be broke next Christmas. The same resolution I have had since being an adult. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to us! 🙂
Hello! I was told yesterday that probably more people could relate to this than I would imagine. A component of depression, I think, is the loneliness. So, while I hate this for you, I have to admit that it helps me to know I’m not alone, and I hope that feeling is reciprocal. I know you journal and my blog is basically my journal; writing about it definitely helps lifts the heaviness off for awhile. Here’s hoping that Magic still reaches you in at least some small way before the year’s end.