A Low-Key Christmas

DW was going to have a tree—a real tree. There was no negotiation.

We no longer gather the kids and drive to a tree farm in North Gower, where we'd ride on either a horse-pulled wagon or one that was towed by a tractor to a large field, filled with various varieties of evergreens. We don't choose the tree and saw it down, ourselves; there's no fire to sit around with cups of hot chocolate and oatmeal cookies.

Those days are gone.

This year, DW and I drove to a Rona store and paid $22 for a two-metre tree, but it no longer goes in the corner, at the window in the front of our house. My home office occupies that area and I'm not ready to give up that space.

DW decorated the tree, alone, and it was seriously lacking in ornaments. She strung some lights and hung only a handful of ornaments: the rest remained in our large Rubbermaid bin.

My mother hosted a dinner but wanted to have it on Christmas Eve. We were fine with that, as I usually spend that night, squirrelled away in our bedroom, wrapping gifts for under the tree whilst It's a Wonderful Life and Scrooge play on the TV.

This year was the first time in decades that I didn't wrap gifts and watch these holiday classics. With Kid 2 in Toronto over the holidays and only Kid 1 at home, we didn't do much in the way of gifts.

DW and I agreed that we wouldn't buy each other presents, that we'd just get ourselves things that we wanted, though DW slipped me one parcel—a book that, when unwrapped, I told her it was a great one.

I had read it earlier this year, much to her disappointment. But I reminded her that when it came out, we both saw it on the express-borrow shelf, in the library, and I checked it out. I have all the books in this series, so I can at least add this gift to that collection.

Otherwise, there was nothing under the tree for either of us. There was only one small gift for Kid 1, which was in a gift bag.

We had given Kid 2 a gift earlier this month, the only thing our young starving artist wanted: cash.

We did have my folks, my sister, and her partner over for a brunch on Christmas Day. This is one tradition we've kept for nearly 20 years. DW bakes a potato pie and a stollen loaf. I prepare a ham and cook up some eggs, and we make a nice salad.

Potato pie and stollen, fresh out of the oven.

I've given up on many things for Christmas but this brunch is a tradition I'm not prepared to end.

With brunch out of the way, we just chilled for the rest of the day. I guess that's sort of a tradition, though we usually have a Christmas dinner, and my mom took care of that the evening before.

I have to say that this was the most low-key Christmas we've had in more than 25 years. In 1997 and 1998, DW and I lived in South Korea, where Christmas wasn't really celebrated: at least, not nearly to the extent that we do in North America.

There was no advertising. Stores didn't seem to recognize the holiday and there were no festive lights around the city. In our second year, when we lived in an apartment building that looked out onto a church, we could hear music on Christmas Eve and there seemed to be a midnight mass.

We had no tree, no lights, no decorations in our apartment.

I didn't put up Christmas lights this year. I just wasn't interested. DW asked me to and I said I would, but there was always a reason why, on a particular day, that I couldn't do it: I hurt my back; I was feeling under the weather; it was raining; it was snowing; it was too cold.

Yes, she was pissed off at my lack of effort but I reminded her that we had lights on our lattice, at the front of the house, that are there year-round, and we never took down some snowflake lights from our front window, which have been lighting up every night through the past year.

We also have a heart-shaped, red neon light in our front window. That's enough, I said.

DW didn't buy it.

I think that because my kids don't make a big deal about this holiday, I don't worry about it, myself. One kid has now missed two Christmases at home, as she's had to work through the holiday. That also bums me out and keeps me from being in the festive spirit.

But as I get older, these holidays don't mean much to me. I haven't done anything for Hallowe'en in years and sit at the back of the house whilst DW tends the door and gives out candy.

Easter has never really meant much to me and has meant even less so since our kids outgrew egg hunts. And though I still enjoy hosting a Thanksgiving dinner, and I'm thankful for the life I have, I don't get too excited about it.

I've become a holiday Grinch.

Holidays still provide a good reason to bring family together but that's all they mean to me (except for Hallowe'en, which is now an inconvenience to me: I'm done with it). But isn't having a family gathering during the holidays what they should be about?

I was pretty much anti-Christmas this year. I don't see me getting in the festive spirit next year. But at this stage in my life, I think that's okay.

How about you?

Regardless of what you celebrate and how you celebrated it, I wish you good health and happiness, regardless the season.