Holiday Spirit Levels: Zero

Since moving away from our old hometown, the holidays have become . . . complicated. It’s not just a question of distance from what remains of our old families, but changes in all our circumstances. And I must admit, it has really put a drag on my so-called holiday spirit.

Thanksgiving was one thing. As a couple who got married in November, by the time our first married Thanksgiving rolled around, we had had a snootful of family and decided to do things on our own, which we did for any number of years thereafter, even once we had children. As a very simple day to gather and enjoy each other, it’s long been my favorite holiday. When we did celebrate it with extended family, we weren’t subjected to travel (except that one year we decided to go to New York and watch the Macy’s parade in person).

About 10 years ago, we were invited to join some friends who hosted a glorious Thanksgiving in the woods on their farm. It was a marvelous gathering of all kinds of people, all coming together in a beautiful little wooded glade that was a hefty hike in from the road to just take in the splendor of the day. Sometimes it was warm, sometimes it was cold, sometimes it snowed, but it was absolutely magical every time. We continued to go even once we had moved away; it was the bright spot of our year. But the hosting was a massive undertaking, and our friends finally had to call an end to it in 2019, which was probably just as well given what came after.

Christmas was entirely another thing. Always a major effort in the years we lived in Syracuse, then still when we lived in the Albany area and were close to both our families. My mother has been hosting a Christmas Eve dinner since about 1970, so that was pretty much mandatory for decades, even as the cast of characters attending it changed and, in recent years, significantly diminished. Christmas day itself, once we had kids, varied from year to year. We had to visit my wife’s family, we had to do something with mine; some years we hosted, some years we didn’t. It was all rather exhausting.

Once we moved away, it became way more so. There were additional logistics – travel, lodging, dealing with our difficult food requirements, getting the college kid to where we were going to be. Several times I had to drive from Wilmington, DE to Worcester, MA to bring the kid back here to PA, and then drive us all up north a few days later. Despite getting to have time with our families, none of this really made me look forward to the holidays.

Then 2019 kinda broke everything. Lee made a trip back home to convince her father that he simply had to move to an assisted living facility, preferably near us where we could help him, and in the course of that visit he fell and ended up in a rehab facility, driving home her point but essentially stranding her as she tried to keep him properly cared for in what is in fact not the greatest health care system in the world. Not even remotely. And as a result, she spent nearly two months away, managing that situation and ensuring her father was being cared for. We had a momentary reunion for Thanksgiving in the woods, the final edition, and then she was stuck there until Dec. 21, when she finally got her father moved to Pennsylvania. Suffice to say we did not return to Albany for Christmas that year.

Then the pandemic came, so . . . yeah.

And now, there’s 2021. We lost her father in June, after the terrible months of enforced separation were finally lifting. They had time together in the final months, which alleviated the awfulness somewhat. So that’s one important person missing from the Christmas plans. My mother’s Christmas Eve becomes complicated by the attendance of family that continue to decide not to take precautions regarding COVID, and I would be wildly disinclined to travel on the days right around Christmas anyway. The adult child who has been living with us will be in the process of moving out and somewhat away right around that time. It looks like we’ll get to visit our other kid, and my mother, right after Christmas, which will be nice. But what will we do on Christmas day? Unclear.

My ambivalence toward Christmas isn’t new. For as long as there have been alternative Christmas songs in place of the traditional and sappy, I’ve vastly preferred those. If I play a Christmas playlist, it’ll have The Waitresses, it’ll have “Daddy Drank Our Christmas Money,” it’ll have “I Was Thinking I Could Clean Up For Christmas.”

And if I sing a Christmas song, it’s something like this – in this case, Jonathan Coulton’s “Christmas Is Interesting.”