Some people love this time of year.  Others love when it’s over.  Some people fall in love during this season.  Others sing Blue Christmas along with Elvis.  Most people proclaim they hate the crass commercialization of the holy days; and then fall in line at the mall.  I’m fairly certain true believers – those that think December 25 marks the actual day of the Christ child’s birth are a minority.  But who wants to pass up a chance to have fun, feast and get together with family? 

        I like a good celebration.  Stories of hope and renewal, new birth, new life, and the return of the light inspire me.  Perhaps like some, I’ve struggled over the years to find the true meaning of Christmas.  World peace eludes us.  Inner peace can get lost in holiday turmoil.  Sometimes I long for solitude.  Other times I want to get lost in the crowd.  Finding the right balance isn’t easy for me, and I gather I’m not alone in this search because so much has been written about the stress of the Holidays and how tough this season of joy can be.

        This week, my local paper ran an article on how to beat the blues during the Holiday season.  The author interviewed a man with a master’s degree in psychology and over 30 years experience in psychotherapy.  A sidebar listed the 12 pitfalls of Christmas in relation to getting the blues.   Coming in at number 5 was loneliness, followed by number 6, family togetherness.  Interesting placement, I thought.  Side by side, one extreme to the other – it almost seems they should cancel each other out.  And yet, there they were putting a smile on my face and getting me thinking about Christmases past.

        In my younger years, I belonged to more than one extended family.  Trying to be in two places at once, staying long enough to keep anybody happy, and having too little time alone with my true love was an annual dilemma.  There was definitely too much family togetherness during those years.  Hot, crowded rooms, loud voices, and clouds of cigarette smoke made for many murky memories.  Then, one year, my true love and I weren’t able to make it home for the holidays.  There weren’t enough vacation days to allow for travel and celebration.  So we stayed at our place, just the two of us. 

        Art supplies were my wish list and after I opened them, I spent Christmas morning playing with new watercolors.  He spent his with a new book in his hands and he steadily turned the pages, putting it down only to stoke the fire in the fireplace or refill a coffee mug.   We left the house in late afternoon for dinner with friends.  We brought wine and a hostess gift.  When dinner was over, we gratefully conceded when our hosts asked us to stack the dishes and stay out of the kitchen.  It was a no-stress holiday, and I remember it fondly. 

        Much later in life, I was leaning more toward number 5 than 6.  I was living in the south and I didn’t want to face the cold or pack heavy winter clothes.  I was single and money was tight.  I put up a tree in my apartment, spent time with friends and was relieved to be able to avoid the hassles of long-distance holiday travel.  It seemed like the best plan until Christmas morning.  I was snug on my couch, lights twinkling before me, fire crackling in front of me and I suddenly missed the chaos family togetherness brought to the holidays.  So I called home for a reality check and I wasn’t disappointed.

        My mother’s twin sister had had a spat with her husband.  She was staying at mom’s house with her cats.  (Mom has a dog).  My sister and her husband separated before the holidays and she was living at mom’s house with her large Labrador puppy -- a breed some consider hyperactive.  My creative aunt has a talent for making extravagant holiday bows.  Each gift she gives is a work of art.  When I called home and explained to mom that I was feeling a little blue, thinking maybe I’d made a mistake in not coming home for the holidays, she laughed loudly into the phone.  “Honey,” she said, “you picked a good year not to come home.  Imagine your Aunt’s 23 packages laid out on the living room floor awaiting their final holiday touches (the bows were in mind).  Then see your sister coming through the front door with that dog that is really a pony in disguise.  Can you picture the look on your Aunt’s face as the dog bounds over the bows, the cats scatter to the back rooms and all 5 animals begin barking and meowing at the same time?”

        Mom was making a few strange noises herself.  She stopped chortling long enough to tell me to “Sit on your couch in your quiet home and sip your tea.  This place is a mad house and if I could, I’d run away and spend the day with you!” 

        Happy Holidays!