As a youngster, Christmas was a struggle for my mother. After WWII, my dad’s coal business mostly died, as people changed to oil to heat their homes. My mother wanted a good Christmas for my younger brother and me, while trying to support my two older sisters in college. As a result, there was very little money for Christmas gifts. I became aware of the tension that surrounded my parents at that time of year, and it was not always a joyous occasion.
On the opposite side, Smiling Dave, my husband, had a dad who was an educated professional in a large corporation, and Dave’s Christmases were traditional with toys and clothing and adult parties. He grew up feeling that Christmas was a delight.
Thus, for two adults who married later in life, Christmas has always been a time of differences and compromises. For example, take the usual Christmas card. David likes a card with a manger scene with angels, shepherds, wise men and a star. He types a letter about our yearly trips and events and sends the card with the enclosed letter to everyone in his family and his numerous friends. His approach is “Jesus is the reason for the season,” and he sticks to that.
On the other side, I want a generic card that says, something like “Peace, Hope and Love in this season and the New Year.” I send it out to my children and a couple of my favorite nieces, and that is it. There is never a letter included, and I can hear my mother saying, “I don’t like those brag letters that people send me at Christmas. They are just tacky.” So, except for my signature that’s all my family gets from me.
Then there is the business of the Christmas tree. Dave thinks a six-foot live tree, with all the trimmings one can throw on it, is what is called for. I, on the other hand, see that kind of tree as nothing but a mess with pine needles on the floor, and the constant danger of catching on fire. I prefer an artificial, pre-lit tree about three feet high sitting on a table with small uniform balls hanging on its plastic limbs. This year we down-sized into a duplex, and there is no room for a large tree. My idea of a tree prevails, and I tell Smiling Dave that it is a compromise. He laughs at me, but then he agrees.
In the past, we have always taken a pre-Christmas trip. I like to travel north to snow and see carolers coming around to sing the old-fashioned Christmas carols. I imagine them bundled up in warm clothing with plaid scarves around their necks happily drinking the hot chocolate, we offer them. If we stay in a traditional inn, it usually happens that way. Dave, however, likes to travel to warm places, and his idea of carolers are young women clad in shorts, and halter tops singing modern songs such as “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” He insists that a ten-dollar bill placed in one of their tambourines is what is expected. Fortunately, this year, we have decided that traveling anyplace is too much on us, so the compromise is to just stay home. No one among the seniors living here ventures out to sing carols, and we have to be satisfied with a concert in the auditorium. I guess we appreciate the entertainment as a compromise for both of us.
Then, there is the Christmas feast. Dave wants to accept an invitation to attend a brunch at his son’s home where we will eat delicious waffles, French toast and a variety of cream filled doughnuts. When we waddle home, the rest of the day will be spent in our recliners napping. I like to go to the dining-room where we reside and eat small portions of turkey, mashed potatoes and salad. When we leave, we are energetic and can take a walk around our retirement village. This year I foresee that it will be the brunch and afternoon naps.
Finally, there is always the question of gifts, but after 28 years of marriage, we know that there is no need to compromise. On Christmas day, we will wish each other a Merry Christmas and follow it up with a “I love you.” In the end, the best gift we can give to each other is the joy of being together and happily anticipating what challenges await us in the New Year.
