Wendy Hatfield

By Wendy Hatfield

I have a recurring dream that it is Christmas Eve and I have not purchased any gifts the entire Christmas season and  the store  is about to close. This dream is puzzling to me because I am a female and a Mom and I would never do something so crazy as to wait until Christmas Eve to buy gifts. I think this dream is a testament to the type of stress that only comes at Christmas. From the tree to the cookies to the Christmas cards to the red and green articles of clothing purchased for Christmas get togethers to of course the actual buying of the various gifts. That is enough pressure and stress to last you all year. Even so, I do not dislike Christmas. It is  part of Christmas as an adult to sweat the cost and attend to all the activities. Plus, my parents put enough wonderment in the season when I was a child to help override any Christmas negativity.
  

So  this year I was all set for the fun and the stress when I started to realize that  things were shaping up to be a little bit different. The  burden  appeared  to be  lighter this year. The slumping economy had a little to do with it. Family members put out the word that a pact would be made: You take care of the children in your life and don’t worry about a gift for me. My friends and I had  made this pact years earlier, just because we were starting to realize it was not necessary to add each other to the long list of obligations. In addition to  people I plan ahead to buy for there is always the people at the last minute that  need appreciating. Teachers are at the top of that list for me. I would not want to miss out on letting them know I value them in my child’s life but for some reason I scramble on the day before Christmas break to run out and buy something for them. However, this year I only  have one teacher to buy for since my other son  is now junior high age and buying for seven different teachers is not expected.

My list was getting shorter and shorter. Then my mom called offering  to buy me a  Christmas tree.  We quickly bought a tree that was the perfect size, shape and price and  actually fit perfectly into the stand without cutting any of the lower branches. Normally, I spend an hour at Home Depot standing up  the trees and twirling  them around inspecting them for gaps and dead branches. The kids’ enthusiasm begins to wane after I  ask to see the  25th tree and I usually end up picking one that is “good enough, I suppose.”

Short list, good tree — something did not feel right. Walking the same isles  over and over to find a gift that the recipient probably did not even need is not fun but it is a part of Christmas. Being tired and hungry and bleary-eyed from the florescent glow of a shopping mall is not enviable but once again it is  what we have come to accept as a part of Christmas. I have noticed the traffic piling up after the 5 o’clock hour. People heading out to shop till they drop. Why suddenly was I jealous of those poor harried individuals? One of my girlfriends who always gets her shopping done early usually finds herself out in the craziness to pick up a few more things. She claims  it is to make sure her kids are wowed on Christmas, but deep down I think it is to be a part of the Christmas rush.

I guess when you are a kid you compare Christmas with presents and candy but as an adult it is about long lists and sore feet. I am coming to understand how important associations are. What rational mind would not embrace less stress at Christmas? Yet, rationality and old habits are at odds here. The last 22  Christmases have been about the hustle and bustle and emptying my  wallet and  eating too many sweets and Swedish meatballs. (Not that I have cut down on filling up my plate at the holidays.)

So, the big question is how do I disassociate myself from the  craziness I have come to know at Christmas? Spend the next 22 Christmases keeping the list short and thereby the stress low? It is a start. The rational part of my brain says, “Yes , yes that is a wonderful idea.” But the ghost of Christmas past whispers, “Maybe next year things will can get back to normal and I can join the sore-footed, bleary-eyed throng sitting in traffic complaining about the commercialism of Christmas.” 

 
Only the future will tell which path I will choose. Maybe the latter part of December spent at home and not at Walmart will sway me.  Or maybe I just won’t be able to help myself.  Maybe there is a thin line between loving a holiday and resenting it.  Only time will tell.  I  will have my  answer when and if  Decembe 2009 comes around and Target is my  second home, the Home Depot garden employees hate me and I have added the mailman  to my list again.  

(Wendy Hatfield is Lamar Thames’ daughter. That now makes two of his children who have penned articles on the web site, which is truly becoming a family affair. His son, Robert, wrote about the Alabama-Florida game last week. Another son, Jeff, developed the site, and the third son, Joe, has posted comments and promises to write his own story soon. As Lamar says, he is truly a blessed person at this Christmas season.)