Home for the Holidays

So I’m sitting here after a 5-hour shift at work watching the snow flutter down outside my window.  The roads are terrible.  It hasn’t stopped snowing for two days.  I was up at the St. Joseph Formation Center this weekend on a Young Adult CYE.  It snowed all day on Sunday.  I love the idea of snow- driving in it, not so much.  While everyone was out playing broom ball on the lake, I just had some quiet time  (with Fr.’s new puppy!  Gah!) staring out the huge picture window in Club G.

It made me think about the question everyone asks this time of year: “So, what are you doing for Christmas?”

My standard answer is, with some fervor and excitement, “Go to Mass!” or “CHURCH!” because that’s what needs to happen.   I’ve been celebrating Christmas for the last few years by spending it by myself and going to Mass.

This, for some odd reason, evokes pity from all who hear it, and goes something like this:

“You mean you’re not going to see your family?”

“Nope.”

“They’re not coming to see you?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s too bad.”

The conversation usually ends there before I get a chance to explain myself.

Well, gentle reader, here we are, and I have some explaining to do.

Barring any extremely intimate details about my parents, there are several reasons I prefer to spend Christmas (and Thanksgiving and Easter) on my own.  As I look back on all the past Christmases of my childhood, I realize what a spoiled, ungrateful brat I was as a child (and still am, to some degree).  Holidays weren’t great for my dad when he was growing up, so my mother had to walk on eggshells around him.  She put such an emphasis on making everything perfect that it stressed all of us out.  To this day, unless it’s my kitchen, I stay the hell out until asked, and even then, I’m wary. 

As a child, Christmas was entirely about the presents and not about Christ.  It was about mistletoe and Christmas cards.  A Precious Moments Nativity Scene with bunny rabbits in it.  Bing Crosby and truckloads of cookies.  We might have gone to Mass somewhere in there, but the main focus was not the Nativity in our house.  It was less about spending time with one another, and more about all the presents I could possibly receive, and each year, it got bigger and bigger- kind of like how Dudley throws a tantrum that he got fewer presents than the year before. 

This is why I love the way my family does it now.  Me, my brother and his family, and my aunt & uncle get together sometime in January for “Christmas.”  No one cooks- we usually have Chinese.  There is a small gift exchange, but we mostly sit around playing board games and enjoy one another’s company.  There is no pressure to “be on our best behavior” or anything.  It’s awesome.  I love it.  We all love and accept one another as we are.  If this is how your family Christmas has always been, consider how freaking lucky you are.  It’s completely alien to me. 

When I was a youth minister in Sheboygan, though, I started doing something on Thanksgiving and Christmas: I started spending them alone (GLORIOUS for an introvert).  I’d make a sit-down feast of my favorites, pour some merlot, put on some quiet music, and enjoy the peace and quiet as I stared out my window at the snow.

Now some might read that last paragraph and experience heartache.  How depressing.

Balderdash.  I.  LOVED.  IT.

I really do enjoy being alone sometimes, and this was kind of a special treat that I allowed myself.  Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my family, but it can get overwhelming.  I also feel that each has their own family that they should be spending time with instead of worrying about including me.  Because when I have a family of my own, I'll want to be with just them.

So anyways, as I sat there that first year contemplating my wine, I felt incredibly grateful to be spending the holiday alone in silence.  Why?  Because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do that as soon as I had a family.  Do you know how impossible it is to have a moment’s peace when you have one child, let alone 20?  Heh.  This opportunity will never happen again! 

What a beautiful gift to receive: to focus solely on Jesus in the Eucharist and then the gorgeous silence of the rest of the day.  Love love love.  To be silent in the manger with the Baby.  Precious.

This year’s the same.  And it’ll be awesome.  An awesome opportunity to think of and pray for my future spouse and our children who will make our holidays a huge, fun, noisy blast of awesome.  I can’t wait.

But this year, I will.  What a great gift.

Merry Christmas.