Until this year.
Cannot find the Joy. Not spiritually. Spiritually, I am ok.
This year, I am down. Bah Humbug. Ebeneezer and it is just another day. So not like me.
My house is decorated like a gift shop, some of the presents are bought and wrapped and I sent the cards before my mom even sent hers.
But, I have done all of this just going through the motions. I cannot get excited. I cannot feel Joy.
And I am consumed by the Joy I can not feel. Never have I been a fan of the Faith Hill, "Where are you Christmas?" song. Until this year. I am Faith Hill (give or take 60 pounds and 20 year) looking for the magic of Christmas.
I had all of the plans, very personalized gifts, wrapping etc. Again, I have just been going through the motions.
Or, maybe this year I am just more aware that I am going through the motions. Maybe I have finally taken my blinders off.
Franklin just got off the phone with me and asked me "what do you think it is? This is so unlike you?"
And while I was talking to him, it hit me.
Last year, a girl I have known since kindergarten, posted a picture of a tree. The infamous ceramic Christmas tree that so many moms made back in the 1960's, that tree. My mom made one. And when she left Pittsburgh, she boxed it up and put it in my pile.
I didn't know I had it until this year. I took it out of the box, washed it and even ordered new lights. Julie inspired me.
I placed the tree on the dining room table, proudly, for everyone to see.
And it has haunted me. I am "Joyless" because I miss old times.I can picture those ladies in the my Aunt Judy's basement painting and talking. And I wonder what they spoke about? There wasn't any social media, they actually looked at one another, eye to eye and spoke. I am sure they shared recipes. Of course they talked about their kids. We were all growing up with one another, we were in the same classrooms, Sunday School classes, baseball teams and Brownie Troops. There were only three channels, all went off at 12:30 am, right after the Star Spangled Banner, so talking about television was limited. I am sure they did speak about The Edge of Night or Search for Tomorrow and maybe they were appalled by "Love American Style".
They could only talk about the Russians or China not about ISIS. Did they talk about the Beatles, Carole King, Rosemary's Baby or going braless?
And did they talk about Christmas? Who decided it was a good idea to put feet in the jammies and have the kids wear matching jammies? Did it start with moms painting ceramic Christmas trees? Did they discuss what they were cooking on Christmas Eve and what they made for Christmas morning and then again for Christmas Dinner? Did they write the recipes down for one another? Did they write several and bring them when they "went to ceramics?" Is that where my mom found out about Mona's sugar cookie recipe?
Did they discuss the best prices on Lite Brites, Easy Bake Ovens, Kitchen and GI Joes and Barbies? Hot Wheels and bicycles? BB guns?
Were they concerned that CLACKERS were cracking up and going in kids eyes?
Did they decide they were not going to let kids sled ride down the hill this winter without helmets because they were fearful of concussions?
Or, did they just sit in comfortable silence and enjoy one another company? None of them worked outside the home. I am sure going to "ceramics" was a big deal. I can hear my mom now telling Crazy Russell he had to be home in time so she could go. Her big night out, with chicks, something to do, something to look forward too. Girls nights with Ceramic Christmas trees.
And now, 48 years later, this tree is on my dining room table. The girl who got the LITE BRITE is looking at the Ceramic Tree wondering where the time has gone.
My "Joy" that is missing...times gone by.
Christmas Eve was either at our house or my Aunt and Uncle's House. The best day ever, always. Hours of opening presents. Youngest to the oldest. Every now and then they would switch it up. Oldest to youngest. It was awesome. Tons of laughs. Cookies. Church.
All of this JOY followed by the horrendous task of trying to fall asleep.
Sitting in my mamaw's basement on Christmas Day eating in the basement. Best meal ever. My grandfather's homemade ice cream. I loved those Christmas meals. I loved traveling to Greensburg with "one toy, you can take one thing" to show my cousin Jennifer. It was the best. The twenty minute car ride seemed like eternity but so worth it.
And then later in life, Emma, Allison and Thomas. I shopped for them for months. The drive to Maryland. OMG, I loved getting there and seeing how they have changed.
And then Robbie
Followed by Walker and Addie.
Kitchen sets, Little Tykes Cozy Coups, Wiggles Guitars, LEGOS and Stuffed Ponies, Dry Erase Boards for playing school and tons of laughs.
I miss my mom at Christmas. I miss my Mamaw. I miss my mother-in-law. I miss my nieces as little girls despite the fine young women they have turned into. I miss my nephew letting me pull at his ear lobes.
And I miss my babies.
My sister-in-law called me last Saturday. "I just miss the old days."
Couldn't have said it better myself.
I sat and looked around my house tonight from my chair with this laptop on my knees. I looked at the ornaments on the tree. The garland going up the stairs. I looked at the ceramic tree. My mom wrote 1967 on the bottom of the base with that sharp tool that had an arrow on the end.
Little did she know when she wrote "1967" that this tree would be sitting in North Carolina in 2015. Where had the time gone?
What would my kids miss? What Christmas memories would they take to their homes in far away states?
Today while I was at worked, I walked into my favorite place at the television station. The commercial guys, aka, "two headed monster" and we discussed my lack of Christmas spirit. These two fellows really listened to me. I told them "screw the turkey, it is going to be 80 degrees, we are grilling steaks" and they said, "go back to your roots. To get your Joy back, you have to go back to Joy. Get a ham."
So, I am going to get up, get out the recipe box and make Mona's Sugar Cookie Dough and get it in the fridge.
I am going to get my Joy back. I am going to appreciate what I have had, even though it is just a joyous memory. I am blessed to have had those memories.
And, I am going to commit now to making ceramic Christmas trees in 2016 for all those women who have been there for Christmas's before.
Getting my Joy back. Going to burst out in song..."Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree".
