The Grinch doesn't live here. Honest

Sean basks in the holiday afterglow

I won't tell you this is the happiest place on Earth.

No, chestnuts aren't roasting on an open fire.

But it's really not a blue Christmas either.

It's just, well, it's just December.

I stayed more loyal to the trappings of Christmas at one time, especially as Sean was going through his formative years. In truth, my mom wasn't quite as big on it but always felt it was right to at least try due to not only Sean but all of her grandchildren.

Christmas -- something my father loved -- wasn't quite her favorite time of year after 1989.

She'd grumble about space to put a tree up, eventually opting for a smaller tree that wasn't entirely to my liking.

Finally, she was just content to have nothing in the house, especially once Sean began to not care as much either.

"It's not like people come over," she'd say, though that wasn't always true.

I feel like a crappy writer (what else is new?) in that I've basically buried the lead.

In short, it's Dec 12 and I haven't put any decorations up. I considered climbing into the attic earlier, primarily out of a guilt, to dig out a few things. I'm sure I could have found some space to make it look good.

Sure, I've got a fake tree (two, as I recall), but she was right in that there really isn't great space for it. But there are other things that I could scatter around.

The holidays are hard enough without additional pressure to make things look pretty.

I haven't avoided it necessarily. I've just not acknowledged it, I suppose.

I haven't watched any of the movies though I'll be quite certain to get in one viewing (at least) of A Christmas Story.

I have music but haven't gone out of my way to play any and, while I don't actually play Whamageddon, I do acknowledge its presence. Yet, in truth, playing Christmas music has lost some magic given all you have to do is ask Alexa or Sirius (or both) to play you one of the myriad channels.

Then you can simply have a Wonderful Christmastime. I shall not hear any McCartney slander, unless it involves "The Girl is Mine" or "Ebony and Ivory."

Gifts? I suspect I won't receive so I haven't bought. 

It's just the way it is in 2020 and, at least so far, I not only understand it but I'm also not bothered by it.

The gift of all of you is more than enough for me. It's the gift of love and friendship and loyalty and respect. Sounds corny but I don't really care.

That's the thing: as I pondered writing this, I didn't want this to be a post in which my mental health was a concern. No, this isn't a note about depression. It's simply factual. The house has all kinds of my mothers goodies in the dining room and it just doesn't seem like a year to decorate for the holidays even if I wanted to.

It goes without saying that it's sad to not have Mom around this year and I know we're all feeling it.

A lot of people struggle at this time of year, and I've highlighted that many times. For some it's just incredibly sad and lonely.

Obviously, for many it's pure joy, and I remember how I felt watching Sean. I could see the excitement. It was the same excitement I felt, like those nights that I couldn't sleep and it would kill me to be stuck in my room.

Then I'd go to the bathroom and try to not look out towards the darkened living room with just enough light catch a glimpse of anything.

But Sean has grown up. Ask him what he wants and he doesn't really know. A gift card will suffice, I guess, or you have to get original.

We're fine, but the house just has a different energy now.

So, please don't be too harsh if I don't go dig out the Christmas themed houses and whatnot in the attic.

I'll respect you for being into it as well.

I'm trying to get through today and on to tomorrow and doing the best I can.

Oh, I can't resist this last note. I saw I had a voicemail on the house phone and, as we all know, it's anything goes these days with marketing calls and other nonsense.

Rarely is it an actual call.

Today, it was from someone calling themselves a neighbor. They said they were from a particular religious group. I'm not here to mock (really) so we'll leave that out.

Within a few words, the reference was made to the Bible before I hit delete.

Then I started laughing.

Did their phone not sizzle when they reached that number? I guarantee not a single person that used that phone number from 1963 until today would have been swayed by that call.

The thought amused me.

The irony, I guess.