Why our Christmas tree won’t come down until Jan. 19
In our house, Christmas comes early. Since we do a lot of entertaining we get a running start the day after Thanksgiving when we put up the tree.
I don’t love the decorating so much as the “having decorated” part where we finally flick on the lights, crank Bob Dylan’s “Must Be Santa,” and toast our fine work with spiked eggnog.
But this year, it all feels so different. A few days ago, as I stared at the spot where our Tannenbaum goes, I wondered what the point even was. There would be no party, no neighbors stopping by, no family flying in from far and wide. For the first time, I’m anticipating the holidays not with excitement, but with dread.
The pit forming in my stomach had less to do with the tree itself, but with the fear of what fresh horror awaits every time a news alert pings my phone. How do we survive the holidays confined to home amid a raging, capricious pandemic and the sense that democracy might be unraveling before our eyes?
After the election was called on Nov. 7, I had unrealistically thought the drama might be over by now but, with the president’s challenges continuing, we’re in for a long, excruciating two months. Everyone is on edge, no matter who they voted for.
Yet, today, as I gaze out the window to blazing red Japanese maples I am reminded of the soul-soothing power of beauty that can be found in a tree, whether created by nature — or in our case, strongly resembling nature — and decked out with tiny lights, red balls and ornaments made with baker’s clay.
In fact, the other day, as we tried to psych ourselves up for the traditional Black Friday decorating blitz, we realized we could leave our tree up even longer this year, say until maybe late January, with no consequences other than the neighbors thinking we’ve gone mad, which would not be an entirely inaccurate characterization.
So here’s our strategy to survive what will be one of the most untraditional holiday seasons of our lives. The tree will go up the day after Thanksgiving, per family tradition, and serve as a backdrop for our various Zoom parties. And, come Jan. 1, our private-lights extravaganza will continue to blaze away, shoring up our spirits through what will likely be more dark days ahead.
Then on Jan. 19, everything comes down and we go to bed early in anticipation of Jan. 20. That day, we’ll open the champagne we’d ordinarily enjoy on New Year’s Eve, and welcome in our real new year. And why not? Remember last New Year’s when we all talked about how bad 2019 had been and gamely toasted 2020 because “it has to be better”? How’d that turn out?
At this point, calendar dates have little meaning. To me, the norm-wrecking, nerve-wracking year that is 2020 won’t be over until responsible leadership returns to the White House. I’m not naive enough to think our troubles will disappear overnight — or ever — but I will relish not having my sense of humanity shredded on a daily basis.
We cannot know what the next two months will bring, but we can at least be confident that a change portends hope to a clear majority of voting Americans. Until then, the Christmas tree and all its trappings will stay up in our house as a visual holiday from these static walls, the constellation of lights doubling as an incentive to stay home and stay safe, and the promise of better days ahead.
A few days ago, as I stared at the spot where our Tannenbaum goes, I wondered what the point even was. … For the first time, I’m anticipating the holidays not with excitement, but with dread.