Maybe it’s been the general lack of snow — until recently, at least — or maybe it was because, due to ongoing illnesses and injuries, thereby missing most of the month of November, that I find I have had a very hard time locating my usual Christmas cheer.
With only days left until the man in the fancy red suit officially visits, I sat staring unhappily at the lovely tree which I personally take such joy in decorating.
Instead, I let the kids trim it themselves over the span of a few days, while avoiding the other room where the real tree my husband and kids went to pick out at a local tree farm still stood bare. There it stood, waiting impatiently for “someone” to take the initiative to get the lights and decorations, turn on the Christmas music, and get it all dolled up for the big day.
According to my Facebook memories, this lady is pretty far behind on the “traditions” I usually love. And instead of feeling like "Cindy Lou," I was feeling a bit more like the Grinch.
I could honestly not care much about most other holidays, but Christmas has always been “my” holiday. Even as I have gotten older and taken on the mental load of creating all the holiday magic for my own little ones, I have always taken great pleasure in decorating our home for the holidays, making chocolate cookies with my girls, and finding the “perfect” gift for the people we love.
Due to a bad fall that left me unable to get out, I ended up doing online shopping this year, and while definitely convenient, it just wasn’t the same. I wasn’t able to go with my family to pick out a tree, or partake in many of the pre-Christmas activities that I normally would join in.
Then, while driving to a Christmas show earlier this month, I passed a street sign that said 'Ebenezer Sideroad' and it hit me. I could continue to allow the less-than-fortunate circumstances of late keep me feeling “Scrooge-y,” or I could find a way to get out of my “Bah Humbug” mindset, because, to be honest — and at the risk of muddling my Christmas references together — it definitely stink, stank, stunk.
So, in an effort to locate that missing spirit, I decided to lean in hard to what I hope will become some new traditions. A gift-wrapping marathon with my longtime best friend who always knows just the right thing to say — and meal to cook — to make me feel better; gingerbread house decorating with my girls and one of our favourite families; and a Christmas concert at my daughters' school, the first one since my youngest started.
And you want to know what happened? Much like the Grinch, my own heart began to grow and the meaning of Christmas came through. This little Grinch ultimately found “the strength of 10 Grinches, plus two!"
Nikki Cole is a staff reporter at BarrieToday.
