Sparks #14 Prompt / Breaking from Tradition

Cultural Conversion

A Christmas shake-up

I was a Christmas maven. For me, next year’s Christmas began the day after this year’s. My then-husband and I lived paycheck-to-paycheck. To buy gifts for all I thought I had to or wanted to, I needed to spread out the spending. And, some deserved more than one present — or so I thought.

Most years, I had a list of names that numbered well over fifty — relatives, friends, neighbors, co-workers. Once you appeared on my list, you probably would never get off it. We may no longer work together, you might move and no longer be a neighbor, you might divorce out of the family — no matter, you would stay on my list unless you committed an unforgivable deed, like dying.

I bought gifts all year long, storing them in a closet, scratching off another name, sometimes adding a new one. The day after Thanksgiving was spent wrapping. I hate to wrap gifts. But, who else would do it? Certainly not my then-husband.

Hours hunched over a long folding table, erected in our living room. Hours wrapping, taping, tagging. Then, the boxing and addressing of those to be delivered by mail. Not unusual for me to have six to ten boxes of varying sizes to be taken to the post office the Monday after Thanksgiving, where I would stand in a long line for an hour or more.

And, there were the Christmas cards. Post-Thanksgiving Saturday was devoted to them. The quick ones, only requiring a Merry Christmas! and a signature for my husband and me — of course, he didn’t sign himself. The others, needing longer notes. Never would I type a letter to be copied for one and all. No, I wrote individual notes or even handwritten letters that I folded neatly in the cards.

That was my old life. An unhappy life filled with my perceptions of what I had to do, of what was expected of me.

Almost twenty years ago, I left my husband, his family, and that life.

I fell in love with a man from Argentina who taught me his traditions and shared his wisdom about relationships.

You were trying to buy love, he said of my crazed Christmas gifting.

I thought I had love and was showing gratitude for it. Probably because I didn’t think I deserved it. So, in a way, he was right about buying love, although it was more like assuring love. If I missed a gift for someone, would I still be loved or even liked? What I knew was that I’d feel guilty for overlooking someone. The overlooked one might forgive me, but I never would forgive myself.

After eliminating the names from my Christmas list of all those related to my previous husband or friends that chose him over me, I had a very short list of gift recipients (his family was much larger than mine).

My new love taught me new traditions that made my life so much easier and my Christmas list so much shorter.

In his culture, Christmas gifts are only given to children. Adults celebrate the holiday by cooking, gathering, eating, dancing, and partying. The festivities start early Christmas Eve morning and end late Christmas night or the next day.

This is our 18th Christmas together. We don’t exchange gifts. I buy for my grandchildren and my daughter, even those she’s an adult and should be excluded according to Hispanic traditions. Ben’s children and grandchildren are all adults, so no presents for them.

I have, on a few occasions, purchased a gift for someone special, like a close friend. But, mostly, I’ve narrowed the giving to a very few.

We’ve had grand Christmas dinners and parties over the years. Now, we don’t. We no longer have family near us and thanks to the pandemic, we don’t travel and don’t want others traveling to us.

Today, I gave our Christmas tree and decorations to our housekeeper. The tree is large, difficult to assemble, and doesn't fit well in our current home. I purchased it for our old, larger home. A home we shared with my daughter and grandchildren, now living more than a thousand miles away. Most of the gifts I bought for them were purchased online and will be delivered directly to them, leaving me gratefully out of the mix. I have one box to take to the post office and it’s a prepaid package. No line, no hassle.

Christmas cards aren’t even a thing for me anymore. I haven’t sent one in years.

I don’t bother to decorate at all. It’s just the two of us and we don’t need or want holiday adornments.

Life is easier. I miss the parties and dinners but not the shopping, spending, and wrapping. Maybe, if our world ever returns to normal, we’ll entertain again.

When I was a child, I felt sorry for “older people” who seem uninterested in Christmas, rarely even putting up a tree. Now I am one of the “older people” and I get it and wish I got it long ago. Before I spent so much money. Before I wasted so much time. Before I confused self-esteem with self-sacrificing.

I’ve learned that when you have a life that is happy every day, you don’t have to buy your way into the hearts of people who really don’t matter.

I’m not religious, but neither is our culture’s celebration of Christmas. Wall Street has highjacked a spiritual celebration and made it a two-month (or longer) shopping spree.

This year think about your holiday traditions. Maybe we Americans should have a cultural conversion and spend time with one another, not in stores, not wrapping presents, and not in post office lines.

Maybe we should concentrate on having merry every day, not just on Christmas.

© Dennett 2021

In response to this Flint and Steel prompt by Ellie Jacobson ✍🏻: