A Hippo Without Tears

It’s holiday time again! This is the time of year when most families come together, gather around a tree or candles and spend time making fantastic memories. Children run down the stairs at the crack of dawn in their cute pajamas and dive into beautifully wrapped boxes. Stockings are full of candy and gifts. Candles are lit with families holding hands. Children play dreidel for chocolate coins and excitedly look forward to a gift every night for a week. The smell of frying latkes on the stove and the hope for the sweetest donuts for dessert. The joy of making fudge and eating the hot liquid leftovers in the pot. The running joke about fruitcake bricks and yet knowing that mom’s soaked in rum is truly yummy. The holiday cards drape the walls or windows of many homes. Electric light “wars” between neighbors take over the streets. Pianos play and families sing. Children dance and fires crackle. (sigh) These are what the holidays are made of, this is what one carries in their heart and memory throughout their life.

I remember it all. It makes me laugh and cry. Those are long ago days that no longer exist in my world. I used to love Christmas and Chanukah. I have come to hate it over the last few years. Not in a Grinch or Scrooge sort of way. I want everyone to have the most wonderful time they possibly can. I want for my family to love and enjoy every moment of the season. I just don’t get that warm fuzzy feeling anymore. I feel sad, gloomy and depressed through a lot of it. I fake my way through the excitement of decorations and fondle the family ornaments with tears in my eyes.

I do find happiness in giving to others. Purchasing gifts for my family, baking and creating plates of candy, surprising people with fudge and thank you cards for their presence in the world, spending time with children and adults who do not have the means to create their own celebrations, joining the festivities of serving those in need. These things make me happy. Doing for others makes the light in my heart glow. That is where my holiday lives.

This year my holiday is different from any I have ever experienced. This year I have chosen not to decorate, put up a tree, take out our menorah, hang lights, or buy huge amounts of presents. I have not gotten caught up in the fever of the holiday season, I have not rushed around to try to get those last minute things done. I have not pushed my way through or gotten trampled on in crowds. Instead, I have sent my son off for two weeks and my mother off for ten days. I am spending my holidays with my husband. The only gift we will give each other is our time together, which is priceless. It is the most amazing gift I could ever ask for. I will be volunteering my time to others and Jason will be joining in that tradition for the first time this year. He’s never really had the opportunity before.

This is the first year of the last 13 Christmases that I have not bawled my eyes out by this point. I have not shed one tear. I find myself getting a tiny bit weepy as the weekend approaches. Not because of my choice of how to celebrate (or not celebrate) this year, but due to the damn memories that crop up with everything going on around me. I can’t escape it no matter what, but I can sure ease the pain a little. I have listened to “I want a hippopotamus for Christmas” song a couple of times because it makes Joshua and I laugh. Other than that I haven’t listened to any carols. I’ve kept my radio station on the normal channels and grooved to the same tunes I love.

Jason and I have planned a few outings that are holiday related, such as going to the Blossoms of Light at the Botanical Gardens. We’ve never been before because we have been held back by our child. We are going to see a movie one day. We are going to eat out a couple of times. We are going to hold hands and hug without being yelled at for it or pulled apart by someone. We are going to make out in the kitchen while cooking dinner.

These are new memories that I need. These are moments I have to store to recall in the future. Not the other ones. Not the ones with a family I once had. Not the ones that only bring sadness to me.

I would like to have one holiday without crying. Just one. That is all I ask.