Thanksgiving ended last night. Today begins, television commercials notwithstanding, the run-up to Christmas in our family. Every year in our half-century together, my wife, whom I fondly call the Bohunk, was joyfully obsessed with every detail of the holiday, from finding just the right gifts to planning meals and baked treats, and especially decorating. If you know her, you know that she is an accomplished decorator — a talent I delight in, except when I have to hang and display groups of pictures on a wall correctly. She decorates the house for different seasons, but goes all out for Christmas, creating lasting memories that define our holiday traditions.
Our long-time friend, Paul Mc, helped us unload the truck of personal effects we brought back to Cook County nine years ago. It was cold, windy, sleeting, and snowing the day we unloaded. Ask Paul, and he’ll tell you that he schlepped dozens of totes packed with Christmas decorations from truck to loft, shaking his head at the excess.
Over the last few years, as we knew our years were advancing and we’d soon be downsizing, Becky has whittled down her inventory of decorations, keeping what she loved and donating or selling what she didn’t love as much. When we moved here to the frontier of Duluth and Proctor, there were only a handful of totes and our latest (last?) Christmas tree.
So today, the understated fall decorations of pumpkins and cornucopia get packed away. The colorful fall wreath on the front door will give way to the Christmas wreath. By Monday, a chair in the living room will have been relocated, and a slender, well-dressed Christmas tree will stand proudly in its place. It will be plugged into an Alexa outlet, with lights turning on at sunset. Again, Alexa will turn on the lights before we wake in the morning.
Our family Christmases have evolved over 50 years. Still, Becky’s decorating prowess, hosting skills, and shopping know-how remain the heart of our traditions.
When we were young parents with four even younger kids, we lived near many family members. With four of our own, we tried to make sure that Christmas Day celebrations were at our house. Much easier to have people bring presents to ours, rather than trying to fit them in a car with four whiny kids suffering from sugar overload. And Becky was an ideal hostess.
Some of those Christmases actually saw three decorated trees in our casa—one flocked white with blue ornaments and blue lightbulbs in the living room. One is a natural tree in the family room decorated with special ornaments, especially family heirlooms. And last was an artificial tree in the basement rec room, decorated by eight little hands and an observant mother.
There’s a lot less stress around Christmas now than we lived with back then.
There was a time when our Christmas card list featured more than 300 recipients. We spent days verifying addresses, licking stamps, and signing our most sincere greetings and wishes for the coming year. We rarely even send a card anymore.
It’s been a long time since the two of us exchanged gifts at Christmas. So nice to have that stressor lifted, reminding us that the holiday can be about togetherness rather than presents. Of course, it may have hurt my personal shopper at Dayton’s in downtown St. Paul. The good people at Skoglund Jewelers in the Valley West Shopping Center must have been depressed that we took a different tack with gift-giving. On the other hand, during our Swedish Death Cleaning earlier this year, we gathered our no-longer-worn jewelry. We brought it to the gold guys at the Miller Hill Mall in Duluth. What we thought would be a waste of time turned into a pretty nice payday. I guess we bought some quality stuff at Skoglunds back in the day.
The other day, my youngest daughter called to get my opinion of a Christmas gift she was getting for her mother. After I effusively praised her choice, came the question I’ve dreaded for years: “What do you want for Christmas?”
You can’t say “nothing,” because they’ll insist, “Do you want to be the only person without a Christmas gift this year?”
So, instead of stressing over whether to wrap a gift, remember the truest answer when a parent says ‘Nothing.’ What we really mean is: You’ve already given it to me—you are the gift.”
