Yes, it is. December, that time of year when all around the Western world, people party and shop for pretty things and sing and eat delicious sugary goodies. But not this year. Not if we want to survive. The Covid pandemic has put a big wet blanket over the holiday season.
Which has me thinking about all the less than perfect Christmases I have seen. My mother must be speaking from beyond, because I am thinking of her stories about Christmas during WWII, a lonely and bleak holiday clouded by anxiety over whether her husband and brothers would ever come home again. I am also thinking of my single parent years, and the December night, dark and cold, when I drove after work to Toys R Us to get a boy astronaut Cabbage Patch doll. I had called all the toy stores to find one (no internet back then.) Those were the years we drove, my boy and I, two hundred miles up the NY Thruway to spend Christmas Day with my parents and my also divorced sister and her three kids. Nobody seemed particularly happy. Her tearful little son threw his new cowboy hat on the floor in disappointment. I longed for the week after Christmas, when back at work, we could eat cookies and nothing was as urgent as it seemed the rest of the year. More recently, we all came down with norovirus. Nobody cared much about presents that year, or even eating.
All this reminiscing is meant to make me feel better about not getting together with friends and family as we hope to ‘stop the spread’ of this deadly virus. But really, it’s reminded me that the best Christmases were quiet. The year I spent the day alone with my new boyfriend. The year I was living in Ann Arbor, Michigan, pregnant with my first child, as my husband earned a master’s degree. We went out for dinner in a restaurant lit with twinkly lights, just the two of us.
People I know are today grieving the loss of loved ones. Most of us are making it through this time with varying degrees of worry and longing for better times. But it’s just a day, this Christmas. A day like any other, if we wish. Or a day made special if we like. This year, I hope for a soft, relaxed and quiet Christmas Day, a hearty meal shared with our two sons, a card game or two, and if the weather cooperates, a nice long walk. Comfort and love, nothing more or less than that.
Linda C. Wisniewski 
14 responses to “It’s Just Christmas”
My thoughts, exactly, Linda. Wishing you a cozy, quiet Christmas season.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Kathy! I wish the same for you.
LikeLike
There’s definitely more than one way to celebrate. I was thinking of you today because I’m making kolache. I give myself a boost in these dark times by reminding myself of a saying favored by my favorite jazz pianist, Monty Alexander. He says: “concentrate on the donut, not the hole.” The hole may be bigger this year, but the donut is still there!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, and we still have donuts! Enjoy the kolache!
LikeLike
I ALWAYS love the poignancy of & love of your writings, Linda. They also always have a thread of optimism, which pulls me out of my darker side! The cat picture reminded me immediately of PSB’s “The Christmas Mouse” short story!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Cindy. Now I have to look up The Christmas Mouse. 😉
LikeLike
I liked this so much, Linda. It put me in mind of a Christmas when we had two-under-four and were living too far from the rest of our family to even think of trying to visit. It was just the four of us, and it was a perfect day with no expectations, and we talk about it even now when the two-under-four are now two-under-forty-six and joined by a third!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for sharing your story, Nancy! The quiet ones are special, aren’t they? And the memories are sweet.
LikeLike
This is great, Linda. I wish you a quiet, reflective holiday doing what makes you the happiest and hoping you have someone you love by your side!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Linda! I wish the same for you.
LikeLike
This is beautiful, Linda and a perfect description for right now. The day will be what you make it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Nancy! Your last sentence is especially true.
LikeLike
The last 9 months has made us relook at our lives and how we live it. Linda, I love how you bring the light out of the darkness. For the most part, this pandemic has brought families together, For me, Christmas Day is a celebration of Jesus’ birth, but it is always overshadowed by shopping for gifts and parties. When you look into the eyes of a young child, as they look at the lights of the Christmas tree and the Menorah, they see the magic of the season, the season of Hope. I look forward to a quiet Christmas Day with my family and will wish for a Christmas miracle. I, for one, believe in miracles!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Debbie! I believe in miracles too. You just reminded me to wish for one this Christmas! I’ll add a wish for yours, too.
LikeLike