Sleigh bells in the air
Beauty everywhere
Yuletide by the fireside
And
joyful memories there
This
sums up Christmas for me. I am a
Christmas freak as some would say. I am
NOT a bible thumping nativity scene Jesus birth celebrating freak. And I don’t particularly appreciate the increasingly
commercial nature of the holiday either.
But I love Christmas time. My ideal
day in December would be like a scene from Elf:
making paper snowflakes, Christmas cookies, and a snowman -
The
insanity commences the day after Thanksgiving.
Decorating, shopping, cooking, putting up lights, listening to every
holiday list available on Pandora. My
intention is to have the house fully bedazzled by Dec 1st so I can
sit back and enjoy the sparkly splendor for the entire month of December. I watch all of the sappy Christmas movies; my
daughter and I have a list of our favorites.
I don’t care if anyone comes over, I could sit in front of the tree with
the fire going every night by myself and be content.
My
goal is to create that magic we felt as kids, the wonder that made it possible
for reindeer to fly and Santa to fit down the chimney and fill stockings. My memories go way back to the quiet beauty
of my grandmother’s Christmas tree on Christmas Eve and her old red house with
the single candle flickering in each window.
It was a festive New England vignette that filled my heart with wonder every year. We celebrated a Swedish Christmas Eve with assorted
family and friends and of course all of the lamentable food that went along
with it including but not limited to:
boiled kielbasa, kidney beans, pickled herring, pigs’ feet, Swedish
meatballs, white fish (Lutefisk) with white sauce, and hardtack (no euphemisms
in this name, it taste and feels like cardboard in your mouth) with assorted
Norwegian cheese and of course Lingonberries (which I liberally applied to
everything to make it palatable). You
can now buy some of these tasty morsels at your local IKEA, but back then
everything was made at home or purchased at a specialty store. As we got older, my brother and I would
sneak the holiday punch that was spiked.
This made the whole occasion seem even more special, (and easier to
choke down the hardtack). Despite the
less than kid-friendly menu, we loved the tradition of Swedish Christmas
eve. My grandmother devised the entire
feast every year for the benefit of my grandfather to celebrate his
heritage. Desert was a rice pudding that
had an almond hidden somewhere in the dish.
It was said that whoever received the almond would have good luck for
the coming year. In 25+ years I think I
only received the nut twice, but it was always a point of anticipation in the
evening to see who would get the lucky nut and hopefully not choke on it.
My
husband’s family is somewhat anti-tradition, and I sensed that introducing them
to Swedish cuisine was not the way to win their hearts. Consequently we developed our own
traditions, which are fairly conventional.
We set up the Christmas village, make Christmas cutout cookies to leave
for Santa, decorate the tree while listening to carols, throw the carrots out
for the reindeer (which my husband chomps on for added effect), and read The Night Before Christmas. We have chicken potpies on Christmas Eve and
watch Polar Express, and on Christmas
Day we ski with a whole slew of friends and finish the afternoon with over-priced
French fries and beer at the Summit House lodge. Traditional raclette for dinner completes the
day. If we have snow we take a Christmas
walk, which is always enchanting no matter where you are.
I
am fortunate that most of my life I have lived in a place that has a decent chance
of producing a white Christmas, and that is what pushes the holiday over the
top. The fluffy white sensation of quiet,
pure beauty is what makes the day truly perfect. What was once a muddy morass of dull, lifeless
grass becomes a soft down comforter of tranquility. Christmas is the ultimate occasion for
renewal and forgiveness. Think of all
the washed up performers that haven’t put out a record in years; they all make
delightful Christmas albums and we appreciate them again in the glowing light
of the holidays. The same goes for the Hallmark channel where people like Jenny
McCarthy, Leeann Rhimes, and even Tori Spelling’s husband have acting gigs. I
use the term acting loosely, but the silly spirit of the season shines through
regardless. (Leeann Rhimes is actually a double threat during the holiday season!)
I
can see how it could be easy to hate Christmas.
The season has found its way to the stores even before Halloween is
over. The crowded malls and stores are
a total buzz kill. People are rushed and
frenzied. There are too many parties and
I’m tired all the time, often times hung over, not to mention bloated from over-consumption
of sugar and desserts.
While
I have never experienced a Christmas miracle, I have seen a notable increase in
tolerance, kindness, and peace during the holiday season. I believe there is restored hope for
mankind. It is a time to appreciate different
traditions and if we haven’t already, open our hearts to everyone regardless of
religion, race, or economic status (but not politicians, I don’t have room in
my heart for those spineless assholes even at this time of year). While the whole world changes for better or
worse, there are still some things that remain the same from year to year. Simple things like the smell of a fresh fir
tree, the unmatched red of a poinsettia, the somewhat inappropriate
implications of “Baby It’s Cold Outside”, and the twinkling lights that adorn
trees large and small in every neighborhood.
Check
that, I did just witness a miracle -- my 17 year-old daughter clad in her
flannel jammies snuggling up to her dad while we watched The Polar Express. If that isn’t the true meaning
of Christmas, I don’t know what is!
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