Opinion: Putting away reminders of Christmas contrasts sharply with our image of the New Year
Have you taken down your Christmas decorations yet? Dragged the tree out to the curb for pickup? Secured the outdoor lights in boxes without mishap or falling from the roof?
This is a ritual as predictable as the season, yet no one talks much about it. That’s because there’s something depressing, something disquieting conclusive in the chore. The holidays are over, and now we must get on with our lives whether or not we want to. The festive bubble of parties and gift exchanges, of family visiting and neighborhood cookie-trading must patiently wait eleven months again.
Once upon a time, I used to keep the decorations up until Epiphany. When my children were growing up, I wanted them to know the tradition of Three Kings Day and always held back a gift, usually a book.
These days, with no children in the house and grandkids spread like confetti around the southeast, I pack away my Christmas baubles before returning to work. I do this little by little, stretching out the jolliness (and the nostalgia) of the holidays.
Makes sense, doesn’t it? The season packs our social calendar, pulling us away from the tsunami of the everyday. It reunites us with friends, throws us together with relatives, and we need that, if only for a respite from the commonplace.
Perhaps that is why some people keep their reindeer inflatables and icicle lights well into February. Every neighborhood has them. I spot the stragglers in my pre-dawn walks as I wend my way on stilldark suburban streets. A younger me didn’t understand — it’s almost Valentine’s Day, for Pete’s sake — but the older me, mellowed by life and unexpected heartaches, thinks: I get it! I get it!
Putting away the physical reminders of Christmas is one of those melancholic jobs that contrasts sharply with our image of the New Year. January offers a restart, but sweeping up pine needles one last time invariably elicits less hope about clean beginnings and more chest-tightening sentimentality. Few rooms are as joyful as a living room with a Christmas tree. Few items are as chockablock with memories as Christmas ornaments.
On the subject of Christmas ornaments: As I was dismantling my tree the day after New Year’s, it occurred to me that its size provided an accurate gauge of the changes in my life, though this hadn’t occurred intentionally. As my family grew, so did our Christmas tree. At one point, in the house of my kids’ childhood, every tree was real, bought at the nearby tree lot on the weekend after Thanksgiving.
These big balsams measured an impressive 9 or 10 feet, a concession to cathedral ceilings and an immature need to impress.
I loved the piney scent and the blinking bulbs, so inspiringly cheery, but honestly, the trees were a pain to decorate. The process involved the use of a ladder, some cursing, and pleas for assistance. Most of the time only my late daughter was interested in helping. Her four brothers were doing who knows what. Eventually I traded in for a more manageable artificial tree, which meant that hanging glass balls and handpainted wood ornaments required only a step stool.
For the past few years, I’ve limited myself to a pencil tree, a slender 6-footer that fits by the entrance and is easily folded and packed into a small, rectangular box. As I was undressing it earlier this month, I took some time to look, really look, at the ornaments I had collected over the years. Many reminded me of my children’s pre-school artistry, many tracked our travels to distant shores.
I rarely cry, but I admit I got teary-eyed, not for what was past but for the joy these little things have brought me. Sighing, I wrapped the ornaments in tissue paper and whispered: See you again in December.
(Ana Veciana-Suarez writes about family and social issues. Email her at avecianasuarez@gmail.com or visit her website anavecianasuarez.com. Follow @AnaVeciana.)
This is a theme puzzle with the subject stated above the grid. Find the listed words in the grid. (They may run in any direction but always in a straight line. Some letters are used more than once.) Ring each word as you find it and when you have completed the puzzle, there will be letters left over. They spell out the alternative theme of the puzzle.: