No Place Like Home For The Holidays

I love the holidays. Absolute, all-out, gleeful adoration of the holidays. All of them. The bigger the better. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, top of my list. Easter? You betcha. I love the "little" ones, too. Mother's Day, Father's Day, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day. The important ones: Independence Day, Veteran's Day, Labor Day. I love 'em all, and each one for its own personal (to me) identity. Even more unifying, each one for its unique food offerings.

With all due respect to those who "poo-poo" the holidays (sorry, BIB, but I'm putting you and a thousand others on the spot), I always thought the "I hate the commercialization so I'm cynical about said holiday" a bit of a cop out. I hate the commercialization as well. That's why I don't feel I am forced to buy my mother flowers (although, since she's dead, it's probably the one gift I can give), my sweetie diamonds or chocolate, my dad a tie (although, since he's dead, it's probably the one gift...well, never mind...), nor do I feel I have to buy -to quote our dear blogger friend - "every annoying" toy known to mankind for my kids, only to have them throw them into the landfill because it's not what they really wanted. Dude, have a daughter. Nothing you get her will ever be what she really wanted and she made her own list! That's life, my friend. Which is why I don't usually buy those kinds of toys and, instead, buy things for others that come in really large boxes which I then give to my kids for hours of entertainment and imagination. I don't buy into the commercialization of a holiday (but I definitely get caught up in the excitement) therefore I don't buy what the commercials tell me to. I'm less popular on Christmas Day, but my gifts usually are well-used.

When my mother was alive, I commemorated Mother's Day creatively, if I could. Never once did I give her a super sappy card or flowers. I embroidered pillow cases (poorly) with her zodiac sign. (Aries, a sign I'm always at odds with) One year, I wrote a parody in her honor. She wasn't all that amused, unfortunately, but she never did have much of a sense of humor.

For Valentine's Day with a sweetie who was as romantic and holiday obsessed as I, I made a mixed tape (oops, dating myself) of songs that had (or would have) special meaning to us. That particular sweetie knew how important it was to me to celebrate holidays and gave me a very special, very inexpensive gift that I treasure to this day.

And then there's Christmas. Sometimes the lean ones are the most memorable, the most significant. They require us to use our creativity and special talents instead of simply throwing money in place of thought. You want the true spirit of Christmas? (Forgetting both the Christian - wow, that word does not look right at all; I hate it when that happens; and historical socio-political for the time being) For the true spirit of Christmas, re-read "Gift of the Magi". It'll melt your heart more than Tiny Tim ever did.

When you write a personal note in a Christmas card. When you knit a cheesy, lopsided scarf. When you take the time to look up something on the internet and forward the information...do you have any idea how incredibly warm and beloved you've made another human being feel? Anybody with half an ounce of self-respect knows what a true gift is, and it has nothing to do with the value of the price tag. It has everything to do with the value of the thought. Every time you sat down to knit another row (or, in my case, rip out another row cuz I can't cable and chew gum at the same time), or sprinkle glitter on glue, or spend an evening burning a comp CD is hours that you've spent actually thinking of someone you care about. That counts a hell of a lot more than iPods (which, granted, are very cool - maybe more of a birthday kind of gift). People want to know how important they are, not how easily they can be bought.

Unless they're teen-agers. Then their very souls are for sale if there's a portable DVD player involved.

Some people no longer receive that one gift that says "I'm thinking of you often". They own beautiful jewelry they never have a place to wear and cabinet mounted CD players they can't use in the living room and in-line skates they have nowhere legal to use. Give them a break this year, huh? Give them something that makes them treasure you every time they see/hear/use it.

And if you'd like to send me a Christmas card this year, please do. I like to display the cards of all the people who took the time to think of me. And that only costs 37 cents...