I realize that it might be a little early to not be in the Christmas spirit... but I'm not. Normally, on the day after Thanksgiving, I excitedly awake to go join the crowds of the early morning shoppers. I, then, return home to rest and proceed with the annual putting up the Christmas tree.
But this year, as I carried our faux tree up from the basement, I had this wave of blahness come over me. This "I feel like I just took down this thing and put it away" feeling.
I fondly remember this time of year as a kid. My mother collected angels and I loved to help unwrapped her hundreds of angels to place throughout our home. We also would actually string popcorn and cranberries to place as garland on our tree. We never really had much money so we would make ornaments from old clothes pins dressed as angels and shepherds. I also enjoyed the element of surprise, and so, as a kid, I would wrap small presents in BIG boxes filled with rocks to fool the person who was receiving it. Such great memories!
My view of Christmas changed slightly when my mom was killed in a car wreck two days after Christmas in December 1997. It's not that I didn't still love this holiday, it just came with a twinge of pain.
The pain lessened after my boys were born. Christmas began to have that happy feeling again... and I looked forward to it. I couldn't wait to get out with those hordes of people to share in the joys of shopping for my loved ones.
This year, however, the twinge of pain has returned....just in a different form. This year the twinge is from a lonely house. There's no excitement in getting a tree ready when you are doing it yourself. I thought it would be great to surprise the boys when they got home with the tree up and decorated. This is when I got the Humbugish feeling...
So, I have put the boxes of decorations aside. I will try decorating again later when the boys are home. Hopefully... that warm, happy, holiday feeling will fill me once again.
Spring Break 2022
1 year ago