Pat Taub
This past weekend I drove to the mall for holiday gifts. Entering TJ Maxx, I was flabbergasted by the towers of holiday merchandise, which spilled over into the narrow aisles, making for tricky navigation. Overwhelmed by this crass commercialism, I made a few purchases and raced to my car.
Back at home, over a cup of tea, I revisited past Christmases where loving connections took center stage, eclipsing store-bought gifts.
There was the Christmas my college-age sons and I spent in Key West, occupying my mother’s condo that sat empty during the holidays. I gave little thought to holiday décor, boarding the plane with a few wrapped presents tucked inside my suitcase and a large tray of Christmas cookies made by a generous Italian neighbor.
Oldest son was taxed with transporting the cookie tray—this was pre-9/11 when air travel was more relaxed. Eying the cookie tray, fellow passengers teasingly requested a sample. David jokingly resisted, carefully placing the tray in an overhead compartment, where it miraculously stayed intact.
Once in Key West, joined by youngest son, we bolted for the K Mart in search of Christmas décor, which had been picked over. We settled on a small, haggard-looking artificial tree, tinsel garlands, and a string of lights. Christmas dinner was another improvised event. Food was spare in the local grocery store. I was reduced to an anemic chicken, picked-over produce, while the Cuban dessert, Dulce de Leche, was an unexpected treat.
The delicious Cuban custard, Dulce de Leche
On the beach Christmas morning, my oldest son lovingly insisted I should “stop feeling guilty about the divorce.” His brother concurred. What an unexpected gift!
A Key West beach
Another Christmas where connections triumphed occurred 25 years ago. My two brothers, their families, myself and my two sons, traveled to Harrisburg, Pa. to spend the holiday with our terminally ill widowed mother. We all sensed it could be her last Christmas, and it was.
My mother and I six months before she died, July 2000
Christmas morning with the whole family gathered, we toasted Mother and showered her with fond memories, keeping our sadness at bay. All the attention energized her. That evening, as I was helping Mother undress for bed, she smiled at me, saying, “Thank you for making my Christmas so special.”
My trip down memory lane left me shocked. Why had I only retrieved two strong memories of Christmases past where love was central? How did I get so swept up the holiday commercialism that love lost its centrality?
Determined to make love central this holiday, I came up with a few guidelines:
With the demanding relative who talks nonstop:
I will try to be empathetic to what’s going on in their lives. Maybe they recently lost a loved one, have health problems, feel lonely or simply need to be affirmed? Understanding their circumstances can lead to compassion where they don’t push my buttons.
Focus on the tender moments:
Our custom of reading aloud “A Child’s Christmas in Wales;” cooking with family when we mess up recipes and laugh over our mistakes; cherishing homemade gifts, like receiving a composite of family photos.
Bestow compliments:
Compliments can up the positives in the room. Even the most obnoxious relative has redeeming qualities. My brother with a big ego engages in meaningful volunteer activities, which I will duly note.
Give hugs:
Hugs are found to be restorative. Behavioral Scientists claim a 20 second hug can turn a relationship around—maybe not permanently but the effects can last awhile. Besides who can resist a hug?
Add humor:
My family likes to exchange silly gifts, like realistic-looking rubber chocolates or stupid board games. I will add jokey gifts to everyone’s stocking and include a new dog outfit for my son’s dog whom he loves to dress up.
Oldest son’s family, a few holidays ago
Practice gratitude:
I will make a gratitude practice central, giving thanks for my cozy home at a time when many struggle to pay their heating bills, or to find shelter from the freezing Maine temperatures.
I will tuck gratitude notes into the Christmas stockings I send to family members. I will express gratitude in my holiday cards to dear friends.
Happy Holidays to All!
