Category Archives: Changing Christmas

Merry COVID Christmas

I created this blog for several reasons, one of them was to develop my writing style.  To accomplish this I committed to a few  rules, including to be wholly honest and transparent.  I felt that this stipulation was necessary to give validation to what I was writing. Unfortunately, I have been only partially successful in meeting this goal.

I am honest when I write about my past, my fears, my ideas, my successes, my failures, and just about anything related to me.  However, I have been conscious to not write about situations that those close to me may find awkward.  I made this modification early on when I wrote something about a family member and was told, “You embarrassed me.”  That event brought back memories of Erma Bombeck, a newspaper columnist from my youth who wrote a hilarious column that often featured the antics of her children.  Decades later I found out that her writings caused her kids untold grief as they hated having their exaggerated dirty laundry aired to their neighbors, teachers, and peers.

I am able to see both the good and bad in people and situations, but my nature is to focus on the positive.  Some have accused me of being too Pollyanna-ish, but this is just who I am. I had a concern that my more positive view of this holiday season could be upsetting to some readers who felt punished during this time. I don’t want to be the guy who is rubbing joy into someone else’s face. Should I not write about Christmas because it might be a “trigger” for someone?  Editors note:  I really am starting to hate the word trigger, and its overuse… but here I am using it myself.

I know Christmas was difficult for many, as most normal get-togethers had to be shelved.  The same can be said for my family as we had to forgo a variety of celebrations on both sides. Despite these losses, I enjoyed Christmas a lot. 

In many ways I am privileged.  I’m retired and have a retirement income, most of my kids were home for the holiday, and I am generally healthy.  I’m sure these factors impacted my Christmas experience. Could being truthful hurt some of my readers who have less?  

After weighing all points I decided to write about my Christmas.  Why?  Because I understand that the way that we think about a situation has a direct impact on how we experience that situation. This is an important rule that is worth writing about.

One theme that I have repeated in my blog posts is that events and situations are neither good nor bad, they just “are.”  As you read this some of you are thinking of exceptions, and are likely muttering something like, “How can you say that the coronavirus is neither good nor bad?  Millions have become sick and hundreds of thousands are dead!”  You would be correct in your assertion that this virus has inflicted terrible consequences on our world.  However, its total effect won’t be known for decades. Believe it or not, some positive may result from this plague. It is possible that the lessons that we have learned from this pandemic will save us from an even more deadly one in the future.  -Sadly, there will be more pandemics.

Back to Christmas.  

Here are some of the things that I chose to view as negative:

I missed not seeing my close family, friends, and relatives.  

Here are some things that I chose to view as positive:

I didn’t have to travel long distances in terrible weather conditions.  I have had to make many white knuckle drives during whiteouts and blizzards to attend past Christmas get-togethers.

How did I redesign Christmas for 2020?

There are many unrealistic expectations around Christmas.  Is it any surprise that so many are stressed before Christmas and disappointed afterwards?  My goal was to extract what my family found significant and to focus on those events.  I used a broad strokes approach instead of trying to micromanage everyone’s individual experience. 

There are general themes that we focus on at Christmas time.

The reason for the season-

As Christians we use December 25th as a day to honor the birth of Jesus.  

Decorating- 

We don’t have a showplace Christmas house.  In fact, our decorations are a  bit on the soft side.  We decorate our living room and family room.  In recent years I have backed away from doing a lot of outside decorations-I hate taking the stuff down in the bitter cold. 

The most significant holiday artifact is our Christmas tree.  It is an old artificial one, that seems to lose more “needles” than real trees do.  However, we love putting on the tree’s decorations as they all have significance to us.  Many ornaments were given as gifts, while others were made by our kids in preschool and grade school.  Each placement feels like a little visit with an old friend.

We all decorated our tree, which was filled with memories from the past.

Food-

Food is a major part of any celebration.  We usually have our main meal on Christmas Eve.  This year I was chief cook and decided to make a beef tenderloin, tossed salad, glazed carrots, scalloped potatoes, and freshly baked yeast rolls.  Julie acted as my assistant, easing my responsibility. I was  terrified that I would ruin the tenderloin, as its overall cost was akin to a small mortgage payment.  Thankfully the meal turned out great.

Our Christmas Eve dinner table was simply set with some very old and much loved Fiestaware.
I was in charge of making Christmas Eve dinner. Happily, it turned out well.

Traditionally Julie makes a brunch on Christmas Day which always includes an egg casserole dish which we refer to as “egg dish.”  It is a combination of eggs, bread, ham, and cheese that is prepared the night before to allow everything to meld together. When baked on Christmas morning it turns into a combination of a souffle and a casserole.  It is a holiday must-have in Kunaland.  

Julie made our Christmas Day brunch. Here she is dusting some Monkey Bread. You can see the “egg dish” far left.

You may be wondering what we had for Christmas Day dinner. Frozen pizza!  It is great to make special meals, but none of us wanted to spend the entire holiday cooking.

Desserts-

Another Christmas tradition.  William decided to make Grace a favorite dessert and Grace decided to do the same for William.  It was their gift to each other.  Personally, I love the idea of a gift of service. Both William and Grace shared their dessert gifts with the rest of the family.  A sweet holiday for all. 

William making Grace some ice cream cone cupcakes, a favorite memory from childhood.
Grace making William a fresh strawberry pound cake, a recent favorite of his.

Gifts-

For decades Julie and I have tried to deemphasize gift giving, but we have been only partially successful.  We have come to realize that it is an important part of the holiday, and we now focus on finding things that have meaning rather than things that are just expensive.  For instance, the kids know of my love of camping and gave me items like a book on the National Parks.  I gave Julie a variety of things, but I also fixed a long-broken lamp that she loves.  For us, it is less about the thing and more about the idea behind the thing.  With that said, it is a wonderful feeling when someone is thinking about you. Kindness does not have a monetary value.

Grace gets a cat T-shirt. We love cats.
The kids know that I love camping. Here I have some camping lounge pants!
My Godchild, Jenny had this special “camping style” mask made for me!
Will wanted some flags for his dorm room. Here he is getting in-touch with his inner Slovak.
We had a power outage that lasted several hours on Christmas morning. Julie was disappointed as we couldn’t listen to music. However, I had a wireless bluetooth speaker in Violet the campervan. The speaker plus some Spotify beamed from my phone did the trick!
Julie got a card game that she played as a child. It was a happy memory.

Together time- 

We enjoy spending time with each other.  Most of our Christmas time together was centered around meals, watching the end of a TV series on a DVD (which was also overdue from the library), and gift opening.  

Alone time- 

One of the advantages (for introverts like us) was having more alone time this year.  There is not much more to say about this as each of us like doing our own thing.

Extended relationships time- 

We had a long ZOOM call with Julie’s family on Christmas, and I made sure to contact people during the holiday season via the phone, ZOOM, Facetime, email, Facebook, and texting.  As the pandemic has lurched on socializing options, like a group ZOOM call, seem more natural. 

We had a long ZOOM call to Julie’s side of the family.

If I summarize what we did for Christmas, it wasn’t much.  We remembered why we were celebrating the day, put up simple decorations, had a few nice meals, opened some gifts, and connected with people who were important to us.  So why was the holiday special?  Because we choose to make it so.  Importantly, we focused on what we had instead of what we didn’t have. 

I would also like to emphasize that I wasn’t trying to artificially replicate our usual Christmas.  Instead, I took important elements from past Christmases and created a new celebration.  I did this to avoid the agony of comparison. I didn’t want us to dwell on why we didn’t have X, Y, or Z.  Instead, I wanted us to focus on what we did have. 

I understand that some of you may be more fortunate than me, and some of you may be less fortunate.  However, it is possible for all of us to approach important events in our lives with what we have, or what we can create, rather than what we don’t have or what we are giving up.

When I was working I would often hear tales of miserable Christmas holidays.  Some would vacation, but their friends went to more exotic places.  Others gave fabulous gifts, but they then had to deal with debt.  Still others tried to orchestrate a “Norman Rockwell”  Christmas and were upset when things weren’t as perfect as what they imagined. People can be disappointed during the best of times when they choose to focus on what’s missing. It is up to us to make our lives the best that they can be.

Christmas 2020 will only happen once in a lifetime, I refuse to throw this day away in the hopes of a better 2021.  Each day is precious, never to be repeated.

The End Of An Era For Me?

Everyone has an opinion of these iconic fixtures of Christmas.  When I was younger, they had a negative reputation, but I never saw them that way.  What am I talking about?  The Christmas newsletter.

Most of us have memories of families who would create a story so fantastic that their lives glowed brighter than the sun.  Some of us have remembrances of tragic letters filled with negatives that left a sour taste in our mouths for days.  However, I feel that these extreme correspondences are the outliers.  The vast majority of Christmas newsletters are vehicles of connection. They join us with a relative or friend and keep us abreast of the essential milestones in their lives.  

Take a person’s Facebook posts and combine them with the posts of other members of their immediate family.  Remove all of the junk, the reposts, the cartoons, and the lame jokes.  Get rid of the majority of the selfies, and add order and cohesion to the storyline.  Then condense all of that information into one or two typed pages.  If you are successful, you have created a Christmas newsletter.  An amazing document.

Julie’s family has farmers, and their newsletters would educate me about farm life.  I always looked forward to reading about their trials and triumphs. Newsletters allowed me to keep up with my college friends. They provided a summary of missed information from those for whom I had more regular content. Newsletter gave me a window into some of my cousin’s lives, individuals with whom I only connected once a year.

Those who send newsletters adopt their own styles. I have received half-sheets of copy paper roughly typed and without adornment. I have also gotten elaborate stories carefully margined onto fancy bordered linen.  Every newsletter has its own charm and purpose.

A newsletter shows effort on the sender’s level and provides a level of intimacy with the receiver.  This is in contrast with those who only send a signed card.  The only information that such an offering gives me is that a person can still sign and stamp.  

I have been writing a Christmas newsletter for around 30 years.  My initial interest in creating one had more to do with computers than it did with communications.  I was fascinated with the ability to do desktop publishing, and I was in the practice of creating brochures and other items for my medical group, Genesis Clinical Services. Initially, the Christmas newsletter was an extension of that interest.  For me, it was the perfect “modern” vehicle to connect with those with whom I wanted to stay in touch but was remiss.

I always structured my newsletter with three main categories.  Naturally, there would be news of the year.  This was standard newsletter fare.  Highlights, trips, illnesses, successes, and failures.  I wanted the story to be readable and engaging instead of a bulleted list of pros and cons.  I always included at least one family photo.  Lastly, I would provide a recipe that my family made and enjoyed.  This last part was a way to share something of value with my friends and family.  Think of the recipes as e-cookies or an e-casserole. In my Eastern European tradition, food is love.

Over the years, I have made many equipment purchases for the Christmas newsletter.  I bought my first laser printer and my first color laser printer specifically to produce a better product.  My first home scanner was bought to scan photos for the newsletter, as was my first-ever digital camera, a $750 Kodak model that could record a photo in VGA resolution (a tiny 0.3 megapixels).  That mid-1990s camera catapulted me into the world of digital photography, a passion that continues to this very day.

Over the years, the Christmas correspondence scene has changed, or at least it has changed for our household. Every year we get fewer cards and even fewer newsletters.  The majority of cards that we receive arrive after we send out our newsletter. I have never been sure if the sender’s lateness was due to procrastination or social reciprocation.  In other words, they sent us a card because we sent them one.

For years I have asked myself if I wanted to continue the practice of sending out 80-90 newsletters at Christmas.  The cost has been a consideration since I have professionally printed them for the last few years.  Time is also a factor, as every newsletter requires many individual steps. I have to chronicle the yearly events of 5 people in less than two pages, come up with a recipe, and find (or take) a photo or two. I have to coordinate this information with Julie, who also serves as my chief proofreader. Despite all efforts, I usually find a typo in my final product-not surprising as I have dyslexia, but embarrassing none-the-less. 

The creation of the Christmas newsletter has remained important to me, but not for the obvious reasons.  The newsletter has become a summary of my family’s history, and a copy goes into our Christmas book. This is the most important reason why I will continue to write the newsletter.  It is the same reason why I write this blog. I want those who come after me to know me as a real person, not just a faded image on an ink-jet printed photo.  I want the generations that follow mine to understand our family and see its members as individuals who had real lives.  So often, I look at an old family photograph and ask, “What was this person really like? What did they have a passion for? What made them angry? What made them happy?  How am I like them? How am I different?” A picture can be worth a thousand words if properly executed.  However, most snapshots provide only the smallest window into the past.

It has become less relevant to send a physical copy of the newsletter over the last few years.  I can publish it on Facebook or email it instead.  Yes, there are a few folks where those types of communications are not possible, but in most cases, it is clear that they have little interest in catching up with the Kunas of Kunaland.

This year I finally cut the cord with snail mail. I wrote and formatted the letter and posted it on Facebook, and sent a few select emails.  This simplification was a relief.  I didn’t have to go to Staples, or get confused with how to mail-merge labels, or coerce my kids into stuffing and stamping envelopes.  Those friends who want to catch up on our lives can; those who would prefer to scan past the post are welcome to do that too. I’ll print up a couple copies for our Christmas book and a few for Julie to send to specific people.  My plan is to continue my newsletter writing into the future, but gone are the days of stamp and stuff. 

I don’t see this year as the end of an era; I see it as the beginning of something new.  Times change, and it is OK to change with them.

Merry Christmas to you.  Peace on earth, goodwill to all.

Mike   

It Won’t Be A Norman Rockwell Christmas

Christmas is coming, but it won’t be a Normal Rockwell Christmas this year. Let’s be honest, Christmas has never been a Norman Rockwell Christmas, as that day is only a construct in an American illustrator’s mind.

It seems like we fall into two Christmas camps.  Those who recall stories of disappointed children and drunken uncles, and those who try to create Christmas magic- sometimes by overbuying, overdecorating, and overeating.  Before you think that I’m a cynical scrooge, I am here to proclaim that I’m not.  But you will need to read further to understand where I’m coming from.

December 25 is a day that has been co-opted over the millennium to serve the needs of a variety of distinct groups.  Christians would tell you that it is the day that the Christ was born. However, any informed Bible scholar will admit that Jesus came into the world in the spring.  Early Christians appropriated December 25 as it coincided with the pagan festival day that celebrated the sun’s birth (not Son).  

The Christmas tree was borrowed from pagan traditions as well and dates back to Egyptian and Roman times.  Evergreens reminded the ancients that spring would come. 

The concept of Santa Claus references the real Nicholas de Myra (St. Nicholas).  A monk who lived around 280 AD. His kind acts to others catapulted him to become the patron saint of children.  His birthday is in March, but he is celebrated on December 6 (St. Nicholas Day) by many European cultures.  Through literature, movies, and advertising, he was bound to Christmas Day and renamed Santa Claus.  His new significance lies in his ability to sell products (gifts) more than anything else. 

Advertisers are always looking for ways to increase sales. One way to do this is to introduce a new character or tradition on top of an existing holiday or event.  These efforts continue to this very day.   Carol Aebersold’s household spy, “The Elf on the Shelf” is a successful product born out of a childhood memory. Kentucky Fried Chicken has had phenomenal success in promoting KFC chicken on Christmas Day in Japan.  Their efforts are more remarkable as Japan is not a Christian country. 

Other “traditions” abound, including lavish lights and outside decorations.  Every corporation gets on the Christmas bandwagon with their products.  A walk through my neighborhood revealed not only dazzling light displays but also Christmasfied objects from companies ranging from Volkswagen to Disney. Nothing says Christmas like an AT-AT wearing a Santa hat.  

If you are Jewish, there is also a place for you at the Christmas table. You can erect a Hanukah bush instead of a Christmas tree and adorn your house with blue lights in place of the traditional white ones.  

Christmas has always been a day to sell.  In its earliest incarnation, it was designed to sell Christianity to pagans (by tying Christ’s birth with one of their holidays); more recently, it is used to push consumers to buy things that they don’t need or can’t afford.  They are manipulated to feel shame when they can’t give their kids the products that they see on TV, or when they can’t create a day as magical as what they witnessed in a Hallmark movie.  

Advertisers sell by creating a problem and then offering a solution.  The bigger the problem, the more expensive the solution.  In the past, a new pair of boots could be an excellent Christmas gift; now, it is a new car or a fabulous holiday vacation.

By now, you are likely thinking that I’m not Scrooge; instead, I’m Satan.  An evil entity who wants to take Christ out of Christmas by being so cynical of one of the most important Christian holidays.  Stand down; that is not the case at all.  My point is that December 25 is just a marker, a moment in time that can be used as we see fit.  It can be a day to celebrate the birth of Jesus, or a day to gather as a family, or a day to sell fruitcakes and game consoles-or all of the above.  Since this day is a synthetic fabrication, we don’t have to attach preconceived ideas of how we have to experience it.  We have the right to use it as we see fit.

Our family considers it a Christian holiday, and we use December 25 as a way to celebrate the birth of Jesus.  It is a day to reflect on the meaning of Christianity.  For me, Jesus’s message has never been one of damnation or exclusion. Instead, it has always been one of redemption, acceptance, forgiveness, inclusion, and love. He may have come to us in March, but I’m OK telling him Happy Birthday in December.  

Our family usually celebrates many traditions during this time.  We play holiday music, we bake cookies, we sing carols.  Mostly, we try to let those close to us know that we love them. We typically socialize more and go to a variety of Christmas get-togethers.  Those won’t be happening this year for obvious COVID reasons.  This saddens me, but it upsets my wife more.  We have traveled to Minnesota to see her family every year since 1992, and it has been a time for her to reconnect. A ZOOM call is a poor substitute for game playing, conversations, and her mother’s Christmas cookies. 

I talk to my sisters daily.  They are very close to their children, but they won’t see them this Christmas.  Both of my sisters won’t put a tree up this year, “What’s the point?” they tell me.  

I’m here to tell them that there is a point.  No, I’m not telling them that they need to put up a tree- remember that it is just a construct.  However, I am telling them that there is a point.

I told you what Christmas means to me; no one or no virus can take that away.  In some ways, COVID can give me a better Christmas.  This year we set up our tree as a family.  It is an old artificial one that is missing a few branches.  We conceal its shortcomings in the traditional way, by hiding them against the wall.  By doing so, we emphasize the tree’s positives, and we negate its negatives. (a point made here).

Julie put on some of her Christmas CDs (yes, we still have CDs) and we all fluffed and assembled the tree. We then went around the house, putting up our other decorations.  Most have been used for decades.  However, there are always one or two new items coming in and a similar number going out.  This year, I printed a smiling photo of Mercury the cat to be used as the insert on her Christmas stocking holder. I also did one of my kids for a photo holding ornament that we found in our ornament box.  

Our tree is decorated with memories, and we all relish the thoughts that each object brings.  There are many ornaments made by the kids through the years, some with a little photo.  There are ornament gifts from past “tree trimming parties” that we held for so many years.  We have other ornaments gifted by friends, and some that are so ridiculous that we had to buy them; a bronzed “Q” from Star Trek and a light-up Mustang convertible comes to mind.  Some of my favorites are those given to me by patients-a mouse dressed up as a doctor or a handmade Christmas stocking ornament with real pills glued on the red felt sock.  We laugh, gasp, and remember.  Our tree will never win a decorator’s prize- but it is highly prized by us.

We emphasize kindness during this time.  Yesterday I heard a little knock on my bedroom door, it was my daughter, Grace.  In her hand was a napkin, and on the napkin were some warm cookies.  My sister Carol had reminded me about CPS (Chicago Public Schools) butter cookies, and I had mentioned that memory to my kids. The cookies are simple, made from only four ingredients, but they are delicious.  

I attended kindergarten and 1st grade at a CPS school and have fond memories of snack time when a few pennies could buy a little glass bottle of chocolate milk and a cookie.  Grace wanted to surprise me and made me some.  A pure act of kindness.  

This Christmas Day, we will do some of our usual activities.  We will read the Christmas story from Luke, or do we do Matthew’s version? -As always, I will need to rely on Julie’s better Bible knowledge to sort that out. We will eat special foods, and open the gifts that we bought each other.  It will be a low-key day, but hopefully, one filled with love.  Love and kindness are free, but I believe they are much more valuable than any bought thing.  It surprises me that many people are afraid to express either emotion as if they indicate weakness rather than strength.  

I suspect that the day will end without a lightning bolt from heaven or a divine revelation.  However, that is not to say that it won’t be a memorable and significant day.  It will be those things because we will make it so. 

Dear reader, I hope you can find some peace, a bit of happiness, and perhaps a dollop of joy in this holiday season. Please focus on what you have, and turn your Christmas into what you need it to be.  Try to find the positives in your situation instead of wasting energy on what you don’t have or reliving sad thoughts from the past. December 25 is just a day that we have designated to be unique.  We have done this for different reasons, some a bit suspect.  However, we can take the good from that day and wrap it around ourselves.  We control our feelings, not an advertising agency, past memory, or unrealistic expectation.  

Peace

Mike   

Grace made me some CPS butter cookies. A pure act of kindness.

Here is the CPS butter cookie recipe, we used salted butter in ours.

Our old tree, its deficiencies hidden its beauty emphasized.
Our tree is filled with memories from the past. You can see the “pill sock” in this photo (far left).
A new memory made by my granddaughter.
I printed this up for Mercury the cat’s Christmas stocking holder. This will assure that Santa fills it with a cat friendly Christmas treat.
As an aside, not everything during the season has to be family oriented. How about taking a peaceful walk where you try to find the hidden beauty of winter?

Christmas Past, Christmas Present

Christmas Past, Christmas Present

I savored the trinity of holidays when I was a kid. Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. This triple threat commenced with the relatively unimportant Halloween, then moved to the more significant Thanksgiving, and culminated in the ultimate holiday, Christmas. 

I have both good and bad Christmas memories. Still, my overall reminiscence of the season was one of excitement and joy. I enjoyed school, but the idea of getting two weeks off from it at the height of winter was exhilarating. However, it seemed that the week that preceded winter break expanded to infinity, moving ever slower as each day inched towards the holiday weekend. 

The first few days off of school were magical, and all possibilities appeared to be within my grasp. I could stay up, I could sleep in, I didn’t have homework to weigh me down, and school seemed like a lightyear away. 

Christmas Eve celebration took place at my grandparent’s walk-up flat on Chicago’s West Side. I didn’t like going there as it smelled strongly of garlic and BenGay. Worse, everyone spoke in Slovak, a language that I could neither speak nor understand. However, Christmas Eve was different, as all of my cousins were in attendance. The family was packed into the tiny place as we laughed and celebrated. My grandmother was an excellent ethnic cook, and we dined on her Christmas cabbage soup, which was accompanied by homemade rye bread, kolacky, and yeast coffee cakes filled with sweet poppy seed or fruit fillings. The kids would be relegated to a makeshift table in one of the bedrooms that was adorned with mismatched plates and bowls. Before we started our meal, a thin host like wafer would be passed among us. Each of us would break off a piece, which we dripped in honey and ate. I’m unsure of the significance of this wafer, which was called Oplatki. I thought it had something to do with Holy Communion, but that is just my conjecture.

Sometime after 11 PM, we would put on our coats and go to Assumption BVM Catholic Church for Midnight Mass. This was an ethnic church, and so the service was in Slovak. The place would be filled with parishioners, and once again, my nose would be assaulted by the smell of garlic, this time punctuated by the pungent odor of mothballs used to prevent insect destruction of  the congregations’ wool dress coats. It was not uncommon for one of my siblings to start to laugh, and like a wave, their mirth would spread to the rest of us. Each child desperately trying to stifle their sacrilegious giggles. Of course, that was impossible, and the more we tried, the more we laughed. Although we were met with angry glares, I remember those incidents with full satisfaction.

After services, we returned to my grandparents’ house for another meal. Our Christmas Eve dinner was meat-free, but our 1 AM meal was not. I don’t recall everything that we ate during that meal. Still, perogies and a delicious Slovak sausage called Droby stand out in my memory. My grandmother would bake the latter with bacon until both the bacon and sausage casings were crisp and delicious. Stuffed to our limit, we would then pile into our respective cars and return home. Christmas Eve was a day where a young kid could stay up ridiculously late without being scolded by a parent. 

Thanksgiving and Christmas Day were the only times that we ate in our dining room, and they were also the only days that we used our good china. Our china consisted of thin white porcelain dishes that had a silver ring around their edges, and an outer margin decorated with pink roses. I thought it was very fancy. Typically, we would eat our meals at our old Formica kitchen table using worn melamine dishes, so eating in the dining room was very special.

My mother would make a massive feast for Christmas Day. We would start off with a small glass of tomato juice and some canned fruit salad and then move onto the main course, a full Thanksgiving-style meal plus dumplings, pork roast, and Polish sausage with sauerkraut. There would be more kolache and yeast coffee cakes. Also, there could be a pie, cookies, nut cups, date bars, and other delectables.  

My two maiden aunts always celebrated Christmas dinner with us. So we weren’t allowed to open presents until dinner was over. This could be agony for me as all of my friends opened gifts either on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. 

Despite having a pile of presents under the tree, the actual number of gifts per person was small and mostly unremarkable. Usually, the best gifts went to my parents’ Godchildren as my folks didn’t want to seem cheap to the other relatives. I often bought my gifts from the Spencer Catalog, a mail-order house where you could get fabulous items for $1 to 3 dollars. Most of the gifts that I received were functional and not very inspired. However, there were a few standout years that I remember.

I started to listen to the radio when I was in early grade school. I would tune our old Aiwa kitchen radio carefully to pick up far off cities as their amplitude modulated signals ebbed and flowed with the shifting ionosphere. Discovering these hidden signals was seminal in broadening my overall view of the world around me, and I wanted a radio for my very own. Christmas was approaching, and I remember telling my mother of this fervent wish.

That year, my mother decided to wrap presents early, and to prevent package prodding, she used a “secret code” to identify whose gifts were whose. This didn’t stop me from investigating the wrapped packages, and I found one rectangular box that was just the right size and weight for a little tabletop radio. I could hardly wait for Christmas.

Christmas arrived that I was given my present to open, it was THE box! I started to carefully rip the wrapping paper, which revealed the word “Westinghouse.” Holy cow, I was really going to get a radio! I now tore off the rest of the paper and literally started to shriek, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I really wanted this, thank you!” My mother had a puzzled look on her face, and took the box from me. “This is for your brother.” She had read the wrong code, and I got the wrong gift. True story. Later, as a teenager and adult, I collected radios of all sorts, eventually owning dozens of them… I’m sure this is only a coincidence.

When I was in 6th grade, my oldest sister Carol married. That Christmas, she gave me a little wrapped box for my gift. It was so light that I thought it was empty. I opened the box to find a note, that note led me to another note, which led me to another note. Eventually, I found myself outside of the house, marching down the street to my sister and her husband’s car. The trunk of the sedan was partially open, and sticking out of it was a huge rectangular box. The box had a little piece of a scrap of paper taped to it that said, “For Michael.” I was utterly bewildered. I started to rip a corner off the box only to find metal parts inside. I tore the box further, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Carol and Bob had bought me a bicycle. My current bike from my parents was a cast-off from one of my cousins. It was so old and worn that I couldn’t even turn the crank arm, and so it sat in the garage unused. Now, I had a brand new, bright red bike! It also had a battery-operated headlight and a package rack on its back fender. I had never received such a generous gift, and I was utterly overwhelmed. My eyes filled with tears as I tried to pull it out the trunk of the car, but my young body didn’t have enough strength. I looked up to find Bob and Carol standing next to me, and with one pull, Bob lifted the box and carried it inside of the house. I rode that bike for many years and even wore out multiple sets of tires on my travels. That Christmas was the best Christmas ever. 

My early Christmases all followed the same prescribed formula. All of my family would gather, and the same rituals were followed every year. There was stability and predictability during the holiday during those times. The routine felt good.

On Christmas Eve, we attended the 5 PM service at Community Christian Church and then immediately headed to our final Christmas party at my nephew Tommy’s house. Since I get up at 4 AM to walk, I was ready to leave the party once the clock chimed nine.

Julie and I both agreed that we would have a low key Christmas Day this year. After attending a variety of pre-Christmas get-togethers, our introverted selves needed some time to recharge. Our two remaining kids were in agreement with scaled-down Christmas plans, and we all relished the idea of staying in our PJs as long as we wanted to on Christmas Day. For many years our family has been somewhat fractured on Christmas, as my oldest daughter was typically unable to travel and celebrate with us. However, this year things would be even worse. My second oldest was now in the Peace Corps and serving in Africa. Not only would we not see her, but we weren’t even sure if we would hear from her due to connectivity uncertainties. 

On Christmas Day, I kept my early walk tradition, but the rest of the family took their time to rise from bed. Julie was the first one up. She poked her head into my study to wish me a “Merry Christmas” and then headed into the kitchen. Soon I heard the whir of our coffee grinder and then the electronic beeps of the oven as Julie programmed it for 350F. She had assembled an overnight egg dish the day before, and she was getting ready to bake it for our Christmas brunch. 

She brought me a cup of coffee, and we chatted for a moment before she returned to the kitchen. Slowly Grace and Will emerged from their respective bedrooms. It was time to open presents. We had texted Kathryn, our Peace Corps daughter, and she said she would try to call us on Christmas morning. That is if she could set a good enough internet connection. As we started to open our gifts, Julie’s iPhone rang. It was Kathryn calling on WhatsApp. She had a good enough wifi connection for a video call! She was able to stay online until we completed our openings as we chatted with her and showed her our presents. It almost seemed like she was with us.

That evening we changed things up by going to our first ever Christmas Day movie. We all enjoyed, “Knives Out,” a who-done-it mystery. Then after a day of rest, we traveled to see our oldest child, Anne. She had an appointment in Normal, IL, and we decided to meet her and our grandkids at a restaurant there. We ate, talked, and laughed as we opened presents and took pictures. Another non-traditional meeting for us, but it was great none-the-less. 

I write this on New Year’s Eve. Our non-traditional Christmas celebrations are behind us, as we face not only a new year, but also a new decade.

I did enjoy the routine and traditions of Christmas past. However, it was not possible for my family and me to have a classic Christmas in 2019. What were my options? I could have demanded that all of my kids be present, but that would have been ridiculous. I could have sulked and felt sorry for myself, but that would only make the situation worse. I choose option three, to not only accept the change but to make the most out of it. By being flexible, I was able to have contact with all of my kids during the holiday. I had an enjoyable Christmas Day punctuated by a first, a Christmas Day movie. It was all excellent. 

It is easy to get locked into a rigid holiday tradition, which can serve as a point of disappointment or conflict if the exact requirements of that expectations are not met. However, such stiffness serves no purpose. I choose to be grateful for what I have instead of being resentful for what I don’t. 

Happy holidays,

Mike

Here is the audio link to this podcast: http://psychiatricsecrets.libsyn.com/christmas-past-christmas-present?fbclid=IwAR2PR7F3Jxb_oXIP0bJm7GbaV_tbWLIGcZiXGC2F5K-Qts96CWUAMHisdhM