I have always loved Christmas and the Christmas season. I’ve loved it for its reality and for everything it could be.
In its reality I have loved Christmas for gift-giving. I love picking out the perfect present and seeing someone’s reaction when they open it, especially if I am correct in my estimation. I like presents to be thoughtful, sometimes witty, sometimes beautiful or practical. I have loved Christmas for getting presents from others, knowing that they have thought of me and cared enough to spend their hard-earned money or their time on me. I have loved Christmas for decorations, for music; no matter how repetitive the song selection, it still delights me, and I rarely tire of it. I have loved Christmas for movies of all ages, for all ages, of various levels of seriousness or hilarity. I have loved Christmas for the hushed sanctity of Christmas Eve once the light of day has gone. I have loved Christmas for stacks of presents under the tree early in the morning (though I’ll admit the morning has waxed later of late). I have loved Christmas for family time, for cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents, for delicious food and flowing alcohol and good moods, happy to be together on such an occasion. I have loved Christmas for the Mass I attend in fancy clothes where I heard the ancient story and sang the antique hymns.
In its potential I have loved Christmas for snow and the smell of a winter night, which is somehow crystalline clean and warmly smokey at the same time. In its potential I have loved Christmas for an unlimited budget to buy everyone I love what they will love and what they deserve. In its potential I have loved Christmas for a similar budget to give freely to those in need. In its potential I have loved Christmas for roaring fires on Christmas Eve and parties where everyone behaves beautifully and has a wonderful time. In its potential I have loved Christmas for streets free from the unfortunate, because they are housed and warm with full bellies. In its potential I have loved Christmas with the knowledge that all on earth have a family of sorts, whether by blood or by choice or both, to turn to, to enjoy, with which to celebrate.
I love Christmas for all that I know it to be, despite materialism and consumerism and stress. I love Christmas for all the potential I know it has to be.
But mostly, I love you.
Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, happy holidays.