I just came down the stairs after putting Small Boy to bed, and caught a glimpse of our Christmas tree. Lit for the last time until the holidays come back around to me. Somewhere in this ramblefest of a blog it's probably been mentioned that Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the year...well, New Year's Day is my least favorite. Yeah, I know. Doesn't make a whole lot of sense.
It's not that I don't appreciate the beauty of a fresh start, the promise of a clean slate, a whole new 12 months to set things right (or at least to set the right things in motion), I do. What's bothersome about today isn't the "beginning" part; rather, it's the "ending". The ending of the holiday season, to be precise. It's like I told my better half earlier - and as I tell him every year - "The holidays are over. No more happiness. Ever." Totally uncharacteristic hyperbole and melodrama from someone not given to either. Okay, fine. I'll give you hyperbole if you know me well enough to be laughing at that.
My stream-of-consciousness musings on my misplaced, oddly-timed seasonal depression:
Goodbye, Christmas tree. Goodbye, wreaths and lights and twinkly, shiny houses. Goodbye, hustle and bustle and people wanting to give instead of to receive. Goodbye, shopping. Goodbye, shipping. Goodbye, baking and carols and toddlers with jingle bells. Goodbye, Christmas magic. Goodbye, traditions and family gatherings and office parties. Goodbye, mail that is not bills. Goodbye evergreens, goodbye apple cider, goodbye ribbons and bows. Goodbye, holiday cheer and anticipation and the promise of maybe weather cool enough to wear sleeves and drink red wine with impunity and turn on your fireplace like you live somewhere cold, where it might snow.
Hello, daily grind. Hello, husband on regular-year work schedule. Hello, impatient clerks and sad holiday items on sale. Hello, diet. Hello, what's in it for ME. Hello, hot weather. Hello to clothes I don't like wearing and sweating when you walk to the car and life without college football again and interminable baseball and can I pretty please just get. out. of. town. for a long weekend because Florida is weighing on me like concrete shoes. Hello again, mundane.
So, in that light, I will gather my mundane around me and resolve again daily to find the joy in it. To quote Rob Thomas -
Our lives are made in these small hours
These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate
Time falls away, but these small hours...
These small hours still remain.
Don't let your small hours pass you by this year.