This Christmas will likely be a ‘blue’ one because of the pandemic and its recommendations for everyone to stay in their home. That means no one to share the big bird with.
Sheila has two sons who both have requested take-outs only. Mine is stranded in Oshawa, staying put there. All three are wisely bachelors but that means no grandchildren, although that I might have enjoyed.
All my friends and acquaintances seem to have them but also, they go on and on about how cute and smart they until I’m tired of hearing it.
Because this Christmas is low-key and nobody joining us, I was expecting less decorations than usual.
Conversely not Sheila though. Instead of cutting back from two trees to one, she has bullied her way to having three: the usual on the porch and front lawn but a third in the living room.
She has also strung lights on five windows instead of three.
When I asked her why she wasn’t practical like I am and downsize during an uncertain time, she said, “I would rather turn a blue Christmas into a multi-coloured one.” Not only that, but there also wasn’t enough extension cords to wire everything up. I had to go out buy more.
I bitched and moaned all through the decorating, constantly thinking, “Why go to all this bother, there’s no one but us to see it?” The living room had to be rearranged and my comfort zone for watching television is not comfortable now. She kept saying the tree holds memories that will fill my heart with more warmth than a blazing fireplace. How banal I thought but held my tongue.
In a world shivering in cynicism and shallowness, that Christmas tree maybe, just maybe, reminds me of all the things that mattered. And as I looked at those ordinary-coloured balls and zigzagging garlands, the sweet simple things in my past took on significance. We even had real trees back in the day. It was a family outing and meant so much more.
In my previous life, Christmas had all gone to pot, what with commercialism and everything. Kids get too many presents and parents powerless to stop it because of peer pressure and being too soft. Many dollars are spent on numerous gifts just to keep up and be competitive – most tossed in a corner, never used or to be worn.
It was the dark side of Christmas for me. It played out as being far too commercial and hurried. I suppose all the money that is spent was good for the economy. As a kid myself, I was content with a yo-yo, a tangerine and a bit of string – whatever happened to those days? One year I had to share a present from Santa with my sister. It was a record player along with two records. It wasn’t long before we were exhausted of playing only two songs.
But these years, Christmas with
Sheila has taken a dramatic turn for the better. We are pragmatic, only hanging a two-foot stocking each to be filled with plain odds and ones, practical but surprising. We allow ourselves to buy one gift, well south of a hundred dollars. I like this way much better. It didn’t seem like much and it wasn’t. But look at the advantages; less wrapping to discard and no one-upmanship.
There was one upside to this Christmas though. The annual WDRA Tree Lighting event planned at the ballfield would be needing a Christmas tree for the occasion. It so happened that we had two nice trees that grown up too close to each other, a spruce and a maple. The spruce was acceptable to the event organizer and so it was cut down and replanted, decorated and the lights lit on a Saturday evening before an appreciative audience.
