Bah Humbug Moments

I had lunch with Mom and Dad this week.  Dad was having a Bah Humbug day; he has a lot of them as he ages.  He wasn't happy because Mom had been working when he thought she should be home with him.  I tried to distract him by talking about Christmas.  I only made it worse.

Dad feels that Christmas has lost all meaning.  For him, Christmas Eve was always a big deal. Everybody met at Grandma and Grandpa's house for a big dinner.  The women all helped clean up, while the men retired to the TV room.  When we kids could wait no longer, Grandma would give in and let us open gifts.  We were surrounded with loved ones, and the house was filled with excitement and laughter.  Now, Grandma and Grandpa are gone, and all of us kids now have kids of our own.  We don't all live in the same town as our parents, not the way Mom and Dad did growing up. Their house is empty of family on Christmas Eve.

I have my own Bah Humbug days.  Christmas used to be my favorite holiday.  We didn't have a lot of money growing up, but we never really wanted for anything either.  Christmas was always magical, it seemed.  Mom always found unique things for each of us.  I know she had fun coming up with something to surprise us, and I wanted to continue that with my own family.  It was much easier to do when the kids were little, though.  And shopping for hubby?  Let's just say he's not easy to buy for.  He doesn't like anything that's not useful.  Invariably, I end up in tears at some point on Christmas Day, feeling like a failure.  Bah humbug.

Christmas has become so commercial.  We're all stressed from running around like madmen, trying to find the perfect gifts for everyone on our lists.  Stores don't close on holidays.  Merchants don't seem to see anything but the almighty dollar.  I think, in many ways, we were better off in the old days.  Stores were closed on Sundays - and on holidays - so people spent more time with their families.  Kids were surrounded by parents and grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  We played board games or sports in the backyard, instead of being alone with ourselves engrossed in something electronic.  Families talked and yes, we even argued.  But at least we were communicating, which is more than we can say about a lot of families these days.

This Christmas, I want to banish the Bah Humbug moments.  I want that peaceful feeling I had growing up. I want to light candles and sit in front of the fire.  I want to pop popcorn and watch Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph, and A Charlie Brown Christmas.  I want to sing Christmas carols, even if I have to belt them out when I'm alone, since my kids won't let me sing when they're in the van with me.  I want to load everybody up on a cold, crisp night and drive around looking at Christmas lights. 

On Christmas Eve, I want to call my parents and thank them for making my childhood great, for teaching me the importance of family.

On Christmas Day, I want to welcome everyone to my house where we can be together as an extended family, filling our bellies with too much food, and making good memories... no Bah Humbugs allowed.