On Boxing Day today, I'm thinking about
how Christmas has become simpler at my house. My husband and
I don't do it up like we used to. Christmases past had us surrounded by
an 11-foot tree that took days to decorate, a stack of presents under the tree
that was anything but restrained, and an extravagant Christmas dinner we hosted
at our house for our friends and loved ones.
That version of
Christmas changed three years ago when we started to flee the cold of the Northeast for sunny weather in Florida over Christmas break, stopped doing a
tree and scaled way back on the gifts. I think this is called middle
age.
We're actually reconsidering this practice. We kind of
miss getting out our 18 years worth of ornaments and having our family of choice
at the house on Christmas day, which always included an after-dinner talent
show. Those memories are rich ones, and I think we need to continue making them
-- and then fly off to Florida the day after
Christmas.
Another part of growing older is getting cozy with
nostalgia and reflection, which this season has led me to think about gifts from
years past and what gift brought me the most joy, meant the most.
I loved the big gift moments from my youth, my first trike
(yes, that adorable kid in in the photo above is me), my first banana-seat bike,
my first stereo which could hold six stacked LPs. And I loved the more lavish
gifts in later years, the little blue box from Tiffany, the cashmere this, the
latest electronic that. But my favorite gift of all time was the one that cost
nothing.
One year, my husband and I were strapped for cash,
and the only way we were going to have the customary pile of presents under the
tree was by racking up lots of credit card bills. Not that we hadn't used
plastic at Christmas before, but for a variety of different reasons, we decided
to do something completely the opposite: We made a pact that we would forgo all
store-bought gifts and give each other something that cost nothing.
We toyed with a few options, and landed on the idea that we
would each give the other 10 words -- words whose meaning we wished for the
other. We left it open how that would be physically implemented, only agreeing
that whatever format we chose, each word would be wrapped up in a gift boxso
we'd have presents to open.
Both Scott and I approached
our word-giving gift idea in much the same manner, which was to embellish each
"word gift" in a rather rustic arts-and-crafts assembly of sorts that included
some sort of artwork representation and a quotation that related to the word
itself. Interestingly, neither one of us duplicated any of the other's words.
When Christmas morning came, it was sort of like Seuss'
Who-ville. We both knew there was nothing of any monetary value under the tree,
but the spirit of Christmas was there anyway. In other words, "Christmas came
just the same." As we opened our 10 gifts, taking turns, taking time
to let the meaning of each word sink in, the whole scene got downright
emotional. There may even have been some tears shed, as I recall, and if that
soundtrack in my head that is the score to the movie of my life had been
audible, you would have heard Judy Garland singing 'I Can't Give You Anything
But Love.'
Later that afternoon, we made a little scrapbook
of our 20 words and the artwork we'd built for them. That book of sentiment and
love, brought about by a down-and-out Christmas with no money, ended up being my
A-#1 favorite gift of all time.
Here are a couple of pages
from it.
One of Scott's gifts to me:
Fun
One
of my gifts to Scott: Serenity
Bonus
Video
At the risk of anyone thinking I don't ever want
extravagant gifts, um, wrong. Take it away Eartha Kitt (1953):
7 comments:
From the photo of you as a tike on a trike to the obvious love you and [your husband] have for one another, this post made me smile. Have a wonderful time down in Florida!
A bike with a banana seat?! I remember getting one of those as a child. The present that had the most impact on me growing up was a Bible that was illustrated with the works of Michelangelo. I found that mythical personages and invisible beings were almost irresistibly compelling when they weren't wearing any clothes. This year my favorite present was a batch of brownies that my brother made from scratch with Splenda because I can't eat sugar. *HE* never wanted an EZ Bake Oven when we were little, but last week he clearly slaved over a hot, inscrutable stove as a labor of love to provide me with a special holiday treat.
So glad to know that you and Scott have shared so many Christmas' with love, fun and being each other's best playmates. I hope you know how much we miss you and wish for you many more "Best Presents Ever." The love between you shall always be your gift to each other. I am thankful to know of your love for one another. (And your cute little boy pics have been fun to see). Have a happy New Year!
How thoughtful and sweet!
If only my partner and I had adopted that idea - our credit cards would be thankful. Perhaps next year...
You misspelled Emily Dickinson's name.
to Arrow107: I know I misspelled Dickinson's name. I was going to point it out in advance, but I knew someone would catch it. Apologies to Ms. Dickinson.
Who is Eartha Kitt? is she/he Drag?
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