Christmas is making me nervous. Real nervous. I've started getting those vague, out of nowhere, intermittent knots in my stomach again. I attribute this to the holidays. I think I kind of realised it before, but just took it in stride how the "world" around me smothers itself with Christmas-ness. I suppose I knew this, let's not be naive, after all--I've been complaining about the red and green onslaught following RIGHT on the heals of Hallowe'en for years now. Every time I get in my car, I see the decorations all around. At night the lights twinkle on front yards. When I went out to do a little shopping the other night, the Christmas music was playing non-stop. Did you ever realise just how sentimental Chritmas music is? Well, it's a killer. Every year for the past several years, I would buy a few new ornaments to go on my tree. Every time I picked up a little package of ornaments this year all I could think about was how much you always loved my tree, with the white lights and the sparkling ornaments. You said it was "magical." So, I put the new ornaments back. I walked across that parking lot, and it was cold, and dark, and the wind was blowing. I see signs saying "Christmas Miracles" everywhere, but I don't feel it this year.
There's no tree at your house yet this year. I haven't got the courage to go over and open those boxes of ornaments and put them up. This year Chritmas kind of feels like those melancholy late night drives through a neighbourhood I'm not familiar with: cold and quiet, with coloured lights silently blinking--all colour and beauty, signifying nothing.