Monday, December 21, 2009

few days before

Isn’t it the truth that for those who love holidays and fetes, December divides itself into the time before, and the time after Christmas...

The days after are the letdown. The days before are festive, sentimental and sweet.

Most every evening, I am working this year at the corner shop and on so many of these evenings, I feel mighty content with the world. Tired, but content. Take today: I’m there at the shop, knowing that my daughters are traveling (finally and safely) out of DC and to the Midwest, I’m listening and humming along to the holiday tunes on the store CD, and out the window, I watch a few flakes prettifying the otherwise drab streets and alleys. Who could complain...

Not being raised in a household that was much into holiday festivities (at least not after us kids got to the double digit ages), I’ve sometimes thought that I adopted Christmas in the same ways that I have adapted to life in the US: I am a stranger to both, but I jump in with enthusiasm, even as I know that the fit isn’t at every turn perfect. Us strangers and aliens – we never worry about cracks and incongruities. Our reality allows us to be tickled if we fit in any way at all. We know that nothing is (or should be) perfect.

So these then are my wonderful days of just before Christmas. With glorious and familiar elements making their comeback year in and year out. You'll recognize them, I'm sure. The routines, the photos, the traditions.

Today, I smiled in appreciation at the sight of the guy at the edge of the gas station. With his tree stand. In three days he’ll be packed and gone. For now, he invites you to stop in on the way home to pick up a tree. Kind of gets you (you – who love holidays and fetes) in the back of the throat, doesn’t it? Buy a tree, any tree, they're all beautiful, even the scraggly and uneven. All green, all as perfect as you're going to ever get in this world of rough edges...


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