You only get so many Christmases and we just spent one of our allotted supply, a sad thought on the night a Christmas closes its two month run.
For all those who complain it was too early to hear that carol,too soon to see that store decoration,premature to take out the box of ornaments,it's all over now and it went by in the flash of an eye. And it always leaves me wanting more.
I write this recollection more for myself than anyone who might see it accidentally or on purpose.
There's no day like Christmas Eve. I'll never work on this day,never do anything I don't want to do. I wait for this one all year. Full of anticipation,a pulpable sense of excitement and cheer it is a day of imagination like no other. I was up bright and early doing housecleaning so Christmas would not enter a cluttered home,when I put things on hold to make what I expected to be a quick trip to CVS and the cemetery to visit my folks. It is they-especially my mom-who are responsible for my deep devotion to all things Christmas and I need to spend a few moments with them . On my trip there it never occurred to me their stones would be under snow. I had an orange ribbon to place by their headstones but I couldn't find them. I got my snow brush out of the car and started clearing snow,searching. I had gym shoes on and I was wet and cold (but at least alive) and everytime I bent over my phone keys would stick and let out a loud tone. I took it out of my pants pocket and put it in my coat pocket. After more attempts to clear snow and locate my parents resting place,I gave up and rode away to CVS,delayed by a long Christmas Eve freight. And once there I realized I had only my empty phone case. No phone.
I left CVS right away and jumped into the car heading back to the cemetery while cautioning myself to stay calm.I was rattled and in a hurry and that's a good recipe for a crash. As it snowed I pictured my phone being covered with snow,being found by someone ,or laying out there waiting for me. It took me 45 minutes to get back there--it would normally take 10 but the longest (and most illegal) freight train in the history of the Christmas season tied up traffic for a mile. Finally back to the cemetery I started digging around for the phone. I couldn't find it,but I DID find my folk's headstones. I couldn't do it anymore .I hoped to flag down a mourner and see if they had a cell phone to call my number.I hoped somewhere beneath the snow the phone would ring and give it's location away. Not a creature was stirring,so I resigned myself to driving home,finding another cellphone and heading back a third time as my Christmas Eve and the things I needed to accomplish before nightfall seemed like it would be tabled,my favorite day laid to waste. I came home and finally located a cell phone and jumped back into the car.Making sure the phone had juice I called my missing phone and it started ringing--INSIDE THE CAR. Wedged between the car seat and the compartment next to it, my phone was not among the buried at the cemetery after all. A third trip avoided and Christmas Eve can resume.
House cleaning done,prescription picked up,decorations tweaked and tightened,I was ready for Christmas.
Each year I am fortunate enough to be invited to a friend's family Christmas party where food flows freely (as does the wine and beer) and the spirit of Christmas abounds. Laughs,recollections,presents and caroling around the fire pit -and this year it was loaded with atmosphere as light snow fell...It's always hard to tear myself away from this annual ritual but I must always be home by 10.
Why? Okay this might seem odd.
Starting in about 1982 or so I have been taping the Christmas Eve broadcast of the local news. I have the top news,weather sports and Christmas features from those broadcasts collected and I can't stop doing it every single year.It is my own personal tradition involving and satisfying no one else but me,but I must continue it though it will almost certainly be nothing important now or in the future. And after that,friends come over pre midnight mass and we have a shot to welcome Christmas,share some cookies and a few more laughs,then head to that traditional church service. This year,we were not at our own church,St.William. They shifted midnight mass to 10 PM, a popular trend in parishes but one I don't accept. Not just for the traditional aspect but because midnight mass figures conveniently in to my Eve activities. And through the light snow we drive about a mile to a brightly decorated house of worship where we pray and give thanks for the same things we have done in previous years at our home parish. Though there are no familiar faces,we're still part of a community that welcomes Christmas and relives the best story ever told from the pulpit.
Once home,I make sure the lights are out,but for one of our trees-a small one that keeps Christmas bright consistently-and go to bed to listen to a radio version of "A Christmas Carol". The morning brings Christmas and we only get so many.
I'm going to spend them wisely and full of good cheer.
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