Can someone please tell me when we went from the true meaning and joy of Christmas, to commercialism and hype? When peace, love thy fellow man, “Merry Christmas” wishing, cease-firing (during wartime, no less), warm and fuzzy feelings and family and traditions were replaced with camping out in front of stores, fist fights in lineups, “Seasons Greetings” wishing (if we say anything at all) lest we offend someone, bitching each other out, paying double on e-bay, Christmas tree dismantling in airports, and walking over each other's dead bodies if necessary for a chance at that elusive, must-have-no-matter-what, whatever-the-hell-it-is piece of what’s-it at what-ever-the-hell price?
And after all that, after we've warmly and fuzzily beat some line-jumper nearly to death and/or drove ourselves into depression, the very kids we did it for (depending on their age, of course) will either play with said “must-have” once or twice and then play with the box or bow instead, or, if older, snub their noses at the (for example) $100 plus IPod as though you’ve just handed them slug guts in a box, utterly disgusted that you didn’t get them the $300 “black” number they only told you a bazillion times to get---the status symbol everyone has. Pul-ease.
And we do this...why?
The kids won’t remember everything they get (and from whom) this year, anymore than they remember everything they got (and from whom) last year.
Go ahead---ask them. I can wait.
What they will remember is the cat knocking over the Christmas tree. Or Grandpa taking out his dentures and making funny faces. Or Aunty Deb baking Nanaimo squares. Or the Christmas meal, in menu-like detail, including their first sip of wine. Or dad throwing everyone out of the kitchen to make his famous potato dressing. In other words, you can’t buy memories, but you can make them.
Gee, what a concept.
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2 comments:
Great editorial! Not sure when Xmas went down the drain for me. But I feel like I'm drowning in it from about Nov. 20th on. When it does finally arrive, it's almost a relief, like the dentist. But, not to wax totally negative, I do love the cookies. Did your gramps really do that w/ his teeth?
Guess Who?
Thanks, Chris! (What do I win?)
Actually, it was my dad, and he did that to my neice and nephew. So funny.
Christmas is what you make it, I think. And being with those you love makes the best memories, bar none.
*gives Christmas cookie*
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