Holiday

Here we are, the final month of 2023. The holiday season is ramping up. Holiday parties, secret Santa’s, office parties, primary school’s “dress as your favorite decoration” day…ugh, don’t miss those days. Everyone rushing around, stressing over the “perfect gift” as they are also stressing over how to pay for the groceries this week. …don’t even get me started on the price of EVERYTHING these days. Watching and listening to people, those I hold dear and those I see on Facebook and Instagram worrying if it’s enough, if they’ll have enough, if they are enough.

This past year, hell, these past three years (thank you Covid), have kicked my ass…and can kiss my ass for that matter. I know I’m known for my positive spins and am a believer of looking on the bright side of life. Always trying to find the good in any situation. That gratitude will help you reach your destination. I’ve also come to realize that a good ol’ dose of “Fuck this Shit!” has it’s medicinal purpose. I find it quite healing actually, quite good for my mental and emotional health. A visit to Fuck this Shit Ville. It’s a place I go to when it’s all too much. I recommend little visits to this destination, I do not recommend setting up camp there. I’ve done both, the latter is not a welcoming neighborhood. (Hence my last blog entry being in February…oops).

Many a thing has happened to yours truly this year. Some good, some great and some, well, imagine a kick to the crotch. Those tales will be for another time. The purpose for today’s post is this, to remind myself and you, my beloved readers, that I am and you are enough. We are. No matter what your boss says, your mother in law (mine’s lovely thank god) says, Facebook and Instagram says, you are enough. Your enough will never be the same as mine or anyone else’s on any given day. Give yourself some grace. The world is upside down, it seems more than it’s ever been. It seems everything is increasing except for plain old compassion and kindness. * As for bosses making you feel like you aren’t enough, or doing enough, more often than not, it’s because they themselves are not doing enough, and shit rolls down hill. Just sayin’.

We all feel like we have Mount Everest in front of us. Something my daughter reminded me of, if you’re climbing Everest everyday, there’s a problem. No one can do that. So today, I’m here to give you, and myself, permission to have our own definition of enough. Being me, as you know, a lover of lists, if you did any of the following, or didn’t, it’s enough.

you got out of bed
you fed yourself
you fed your child
you went to work not knowing how you’d make it through your shift
you made that call you didn’t want to make
you told someone how you are feeling
you took care of an aging parent even though it scares you to do so
you washed the dishes
you did the laundry
you watched your favorite show
you listened to your favorite podcast
you listened to your favorite song on repeat to soothe your soul
you opened the mail
you figured out how to pay the water bill and get groceries
you kept your hope for a better day ahead

I know I haven’t even scratched the surface on how long this list could be. Hopefully it resonated with you or gave you an idea of your own “enough” accomplishment today. I don’t know if it’s the state of the world, menopause, getting to the age of 51 and having no tolerance for bullshit and inauthenticity, or seeing and hearing so many of those that I hold dear beating themselves up about being “enough”. I just gotta give my opinion about this. As I type this, I hear those who know me well saying “ummm….You’ve always stated your opinion Sara”. True enough.

Here we are, it’s the first day of December. December has officially arrived. The holiday season is in full swing. Hanukkah has begun, the menorah has been lit. Every radio station playing Christmas carols, some playing them 24/7. Twinkle lights twinkle at every turn. An Elf on every shelf… thank god I missed this “tradition”. Advent calendars starting their Christmas Eve countdown. Christmas trees popping up on every social media feed, along with the ever present and ever so popular question “So… got all your Christmas shopping done?” or my all time favorite “Don’t you just love Christmas?!?!”. What never ceases to amaze me is those who declare their love of Christmas and the holidays are the same people that have a panic attack wondering if their Mother in Law will complain about the Turkey or their Mother will once again voice her concern over their daughter wearing black eyeliner.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve watched and listened to many I hold dear. I’ve seen the fear in their eyes, the panic in their voice, all over the holidays, over getting all the gifts just right and the opinions and reactions of their families. When I’m asked about my plans, I usually just get a blank stare followed with “I wish I could do that.”. What are my plans you ask? A quiet night with my parents, my hubby and daughter on Christmas Eve. A quiet lunch with my Mother in Law on Christmas Day. Am I done my shopping? I don’t know. Yup, you read that correctly, I don’t know. I always buy my Mother in Law some of her favorite creams, candles etc…, they make her happy. I buy for my daughter, because I enjoy surprising her. That’s about it. My husband and I don’t exchange gifts, on Christmas. We surprise each other during the year, some years more than others. I’ll put together little things I’ve found throughout the year to brighten a friend’s day.

Before you stop reading, or shout out your screen “Easy for you! You don’t have a huge family!” or “Easy to say when you don’t have 6 kids!” or “Everyone in your family is healthy!”, you are all correct. It is easy for me, it wasn’t always. I used to knock myself out trying to create the picture perfect holiday season. Yes, the season, not just a day or two, the whole goddamn month. I Martha Stewarted and Norman Rockwelled the shit out of the holidays. I’m tired just thinking about it. I was trying so hard to achieve the holiday I thought I should be having, not the holiday I wanted to have. Being as stubborn as I once was, and still am, in 2009, the powers that be, the Universe, God, the Smurfs, your choice, decided it was time for me to slow down and ease up, so my body grew a fibroid, a big one,(no cancer) and the surgery date was slotted for December 4th. You can’t deck the halls when you have a 10 inch scar across your stomach. So there I was, forced to slow down and guess what? The ground didn’t open up and swallow me whole. Who knew a hysterectomy for Christmas would be one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.

The point to my holiday/medical rambling you ask? Let’s go to Oxford Dictionary for a moment. Holiday – noun; a day of festivity or recreation when no work is done. … see, the dictionary gets it, it’s time we do too.

We cannot control everything, trust me, I’ve tried. We can’t. We can’t control how Aunt Ida keeps giving you a hand knit sweater 3 sizes too big and demands you model it even though she’s reminded every year of your size and that you are allergic to wool. We can’t control how Mothers and Mother in Laws are “fine” with alternating Christmas dinners. We can’t control the opinion that our kids eat too much junk by the very people who fill a stocking full of chocolate and treats and give them to said children. Sorry Virginia, in the case of controlling your family, friends and all aspects of your holiday experience, there is no Santa Claus. We can, however, control ourselves, our reactions, our personal traditions. I don’t see all my family on Christmas Day anymore. I deliver cookies before Christmas and have a visit. We see my parents on Christmas Eve. Sometimes we share a meal, sometimes hor d’oeuvres. Sometimes we exchange gifts, sometimes we exchange memories and good conversation. We still have to travel on Christmas Day to see family, but now we decide the time. Too many snow squalled drive homes in the dark changed that. We now go for lunch. We see our family, we eat a meal together, watch my Mother in Law and daughter open gifts, have a nice visit and are home by 4 p.m.. Meeting halfway is better than not meeting at all.

Christmas presence, be it for the day or for an hour, is better than any Christmas presents you can buy.