Times Change: Christmas Edition

Well here we are: Christmas Eve and all that jazz.

I keep saying a secluded island would be nice for the month of December, and maybe one day (no, not likely).

It's a shame what the holidays have done to so many. It seems to wear us out. It seems to break us down with the crass consumerism of it all.

It bursts at the seams with stress of family and work.

It seems, most of all, to be an incredibly depressing time of year.

I try to watch it through Sean's eyes. It was he who decorated the Christmas tree, while I was unwrapping things to hang, etc. He worked diligently to get the train under the tree, just the way he likes it.

He's the one who is saddened over the like deluge of rain that will hit tonight and tomorrow. He would love to have a white Christmas, while I have no interest in shoveling, plowing, blowing, and driving in it.

I'll take the island, please. Or Florida.

Ah, Florida. The place where I spent every Christmas from 1969 until 1975. We were all together - mother, father, sister, brother, and the young blogger. We were with our fraternal grandparents right near Tarpon Springs. Thus we bottle the memories of youth.

You didn't wear anything but your "Sunday best" back then on Christmas.

Progress, I guess.

I fought the good fight for years. I would always wear a nice sweater or button-down shirt, business-casual or even dress pants, and dress shoes. Heck, some years even featured a tie, either on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.

Now? Nope. I finally caved. I saw everybody else was doing what they did. I saw time had marched on, and I was sitting on my front porch, imploring everyone to leave my strands of grass alone.

Maybe a nice pair of jeans will do. Maybe not. But put it this way: I feel no pressure.

Tomorrow morning, as has become the "new normal," I will drop Sean off. Then I'll probably watch movies (the 24 Hours of A Christmas Story always sounds good).

Maybe, just like the Parker's in the movie, I'll get Chinese food.

So it goes.