the true meaning of Christmas

6AM - I've been asleep for less than 6 hours, Bill's awake.

"I want to see what Santa brought," he said. "I can't sleep anymore."

"That's okay, sweetie - we can go downstairs."

I drank my usual cup of Peace Decaff Coffee and curled up on the comfy couch in the front room. There, lined up neatly on the mantel, were the 6 Christmas stockings. The kids's 4 were all filled - Steve's and mine were empty. There were two little packages wrapped in foreign Christmas paper, addressed to Bill. He quickly ripped them open - two video games he'd wanted. He started playing. Two hours later everyone else came downstairs and ate the warm gooey rolls I'd made (after dragging my butt off the comfy couch), and we sat around our kitchen table eating and laughing. Our "big" dinner was actually just a normal turkey dinner, nothing extra, but yummy. We met Peggy and her family and went to "Walk Hard." Bill didn't go (if you've seen the movie, it's hilarious, but totally inappropriate for kids). Then Steve, Bill and I went over to Peggy's house (Kari and Erik had to go to their dad's), and Pegs and I made chili and salad while everyone else chatted at the table. Jeremiah was home from Chicago, Josh home from Tacoma, and Rachel here because she goes to a local college. I love my sister and her family, and that is what I want to say about Christmas. It wasn't about the presents (I went overboard this year, totally - had to BORROW money from Steve to go to the movies), or the garbage bag of wrapping paper, or the sweets (yes, I DID eat some fudge, and let me just say ... yum).

Christmas for me this year was hearing Peggy play flute at the Plains, then learning that her friend, the bass player, died suddenly that Friday from heart problems. It was crying for Dave and his family. It was hearing Josh Groban singing a Christmas carol with interjected messages from military folk to their families, and crying my eyes out for a long time. It was watching "The Best First Wedding Dance Ever" at Peggy's house, and talking about Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart. It was seeing a picture of Cuddles on their mantle, and feeling my heart become full (they'd just put Cuddles down a few days before). It was feeling sad that nobody would be with Mom and Dad for Christmas, but knowing we'd be with them in a few days. It was feeling, maybe for the first time, that while most of us are frantically sending out Christmas cards, baking, attending parties, drinking, buying presents, and singing Christmas carols, there's a whole other population standing on the other side of that glass, like the little match girl, staring at the festivities, freezing in the cold. There are those people with no family, or grown children, or divorced, or people who've had loved ones die over the holidays, so holidays have now become a time of remembered grief. There are those people who have little or no extra money, or little or no friends, or who are recovering alcoholics (or active alcoholics) who are reminded daily of the lure of alcohol through increased advertising and party reminders. There are the Buddhists and the Atheists and the Agnostics, and the Muslims and the Native Americans, and the whole rest of the world's population who don't "do" this time of year like some of us do.

I'm thinking of all of those people these days, and I'm feeling my arms opening wider to include that reality, that perspective. I'd be lying if I didn't say I love the baking and the presents and the festivities and the traditions. I love lighting all the candles in the house and decorating our sweet little 20 year old plastic tree. I love reading people's Christmas letters, seeing their pictures, hearing about their lives in the past year. But I don't think necessarily all of this is limited to a one-shot deal in the year. I think the "feeling" of Christmas should be spread out another 363 1/2 days and should be spread out to 100% of the world's people. It's not just Christmas - it's whatever traditions we make - no matter where we are, or what religion or non-religion we are. I just don't care - I love it all. Happy Holy Days - all 365 of them...