Holiday Solution (Duh)

Me and my Dad, Christmas Past

December. Holidays. No matter what you celebrate this time of year, there’s a universal thread that connects us all. Is it planning? Cooking? Shopping? Fatigue? Searching high and low for that perfect gift? Sprucing up our living space to prepare for guests? Working our asses off to make enough cash to buy enough stuff? 

I give you a big, fat nope. It’s not. 

The universal thread is love.  

Okay. Anyone who knows me knows I’m not a sappy person. My sister inherited the sentimental gene from our dad. My husband and I both feel compelled to cap off lovey text messages to each other with “*gag*” just to be clear that yes, I love your guts, but let’s not get all mushy about it.

But I’m just gonna say it. The point of all this holiday hustle and bustle isn’t all the crap that we fill our houses with in preparation. It’s reconnecting with family and friends (thank you, Captain Obvious). 

We are all busy. Life is hectic. Sometimes we lose sight of what really matters. So I’m here to remind you -- and myself and all my loved ones -- what really matters. The people in our lives we are connected to, that’s what matters. Family. Friends we count as family. The people who know you and have to love you even when you have a bad day, are mean or rude or snotty, are too tired to be a good friend/sister/aunt. The people you love just the same even when you haven’t seen them in forever.  

What’s that you say? It’s just too hard to pull it all together this year, there’s a mile long list of reasons to just let the holidays pass unnoticed? Get over yourself. 

• Problem: But my house is too small. Solution: So what. Push unnecessary end tables into another room, add folding chairs, set up a buffet in your kitchenette. Family and friends will be happy to stand and alternate sitting as long as they get to see your smiling face and hear the kids screeching and laughing underfoot. Or convince someone else to host.

• Problem: But I can’t afford to host a dinner. Solution: Do a potluck. Make a list of every item needed, including paper products. Assign the ham to that one aunt who never balks at cost or size of contributed dish. Make it byo drinks.

• Problem: But I haven’t spoken to her/him/them in a year. Solution: All the more reason to reach out. What better reason than the holidays, and what better feeling to be the person to put the past in the past?

• Problem: But it’s too far to travel. Solution: Really? Is it really? Is it an hour or two, or a two day drive? How far is too far to connect with family and friends you love, or even used to love when you saw them three years ago? This is what couches and airbeds are for, people. Obviously it’s not always possible, but stop for a minute and think about the small time investment to see people who have known you most of your life.

• Problem: But my house is so run-down (or old or messy or whatever). Solution: Again--really? Who is actually going to care? And, to that one person in the bunch who will judge you because of your dust bunnies and seventies-décor, screw ‘em. No, seriously. Because in spite of your reservations, you’ll be the hero, the one who stepped up and brought everyone together for a day; a day you’ll all remember why you’ve missed each other and why-don’t-we-do-this-more-often. 

On that note, I’m going to play the kid card. Our kids LOVE this time of year. They can’t wait to see aunts, uncles, friends, cousins little and big. They can’t wait for the food and goodies and presents, but, as my own kids have told me, they’re mostly excited to spend time with everyone.

Don’t we want to provide our children with the sweet, silly, aggravating, nostalgic kind of memories we have of our own childhood holidays spent with loved ones? As many loved ones as our moms and dads could manage to bring together? And if our childhood was less than perfect, then jeez, don’t we want to give our own kids the kind of holiday experience we always wished we had growing up? I know I do.

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