The Ghost of Christmas Past

Two weeks or so before Christmas and always on a Sunday afternoon, my Uncle Bill and I would go over to some land he owned south of town and we would spend as much time as needed, sometimes practically all day, finding the perfect Christmas tree. We had an old home with high ceilings so the tree we would select was always seven to eight feet tall. We would tie it on the car, take it home, and carry it into the house to the applause and accompanying "ooohhs" and "aaahhs" of the women folk. After eating dinner, everyone would spend the next few hours trimming the tree until it was absolutely perfect. Then we would turn off all the lights in the house and turn the tree lights on to much fanfare. We would then sit in that darkened house, illuminated only by the lights on the tree for long periods of time, simply admiring the beauty of the season.

Presents would gradually begin to appear under the tree each day and evening until Christmas Eve, when the floor would be covered with presents for everyone in my extended family. I had a compelling sense of fairness about me when I was a little boy and would very carefully count the number of presents each person had under the tree. If anyone was being short-changed, I would quickly tell one of the adults that another present was needed so everyone would have the same number on Christmas morning. We always celebrated Christmas on Christmas morning although we knew people who opened presents Christmas Eve night and still do. When I was real little, I remember thinking that it didn't make any sense to open presents BEFORE Santa Claus came because everyone knew he didn't come until all the kids were in bed and sound asleep.

After marriage and children, Linda and I tried to maintain the same kind of Christmas for our children that she and I had enjoyed. We would spend Christmas Eve with her folks and Christmas morning with mine, so our boys had two Christmases to look forward to instead of just one. We told them that Santa would be delivering their gifts at my folks house while we were opening presents from family at Linda's folks and that always seemed to make sense to them.

But, as happens with all things, the Christmas celebration and tradition began to change. It didn't change suddenly or dramatically; in fact, the change was almost imperceptibly slow. But it was change nonetheless. The first change was when the boys discovered there was no Santa Claus and so the mad dash to get up in the morning to see what Santa had left them and whether he drank his milk and ate his cookies went away, as did the milk and the cookies. So everyone began to sleep in much later. And the gifts became more sophisticated and purposeful and less "child-like" fun because the boys were getting older.

We continued to decorate the outside and inside of our home the way we always had but we all knew that things were different now. And then when the boys graduated from high school and left for college, we stopped decorating the outside of the house. And a few years later, we stopped decorating the inside of the house. And after our divorce, we stopped even having a tree, both at her house and mine.

I've spent this past week with my boys in Arkansas and Linda announced at the conclusion of our turkey dinner and all the fixings on Christmas Day that this would be the last Christmas we would follow this tradition as well. She said it was too much work, and took up too much time. Even though both our boys have steady girlfriends, neither has ever been married or had children so the grandparent thing never came along like it does for most families. So what was lost when our boys began to grow up has not yet been recaptured and perhaps never will be.

This is what I mean by the changes being almost imperceptible. Things didn't change all of a sudden; they changed very slowly and gradually but they changed just the same. Each year something else went away that had been with us forever but because it was only one thing, we didn't pay much attention to it until one Christmas rolled around and we realized that everything we once had and did was now gone and that those things had vanished right in front of our very eyes: Santa Claus, outside lights, inside lights, Christmas tree, trimming the tree, presents under the tree and now Turkey dinner. They're all gone.

This is the same kind of thing that frequently happens to relationships. Relationships hardly ever end with one offense or one wrong word or deed.

They tend to end slowly, gradually, almost imperceptibly over time, sometimes long periods of time, until you wake up one morning and realize there's nothing left; that the relationship vanished right in front of your very eyes; just like Christmas vanished for me. Holidays change, relationships change, people change, lives change; and not always for the better.

Sometimes I wish I still believed in Santa Claus.