Nicole Scurlock
“It just doesn’t feel like Christmas.” My daughter expressed this to me over the phone recently. She was away finishing up her semester of college, and I was at home on the couch, opposite the very merry and bright Christmas tree she and I decorated just weeks before. I could not argue her sentiment, however. Wrapping up a year of many goings-on, I was also finding it hard to muster much enthusiasm for the season.
Christmas loses a little sparkle once you’re in on it. Activities like visiting the big jolly guy at the mall, crafting homemade ornaments in class, and wishing for an overnight snow to buy you an extra day of play–all fall away naturally, and quite unnoticed, while you are busy growing up. Before you know it, you are launched into the world of responsibilities and deadlines, sharing an apartment with three other young adults trying to create a bit of magic for yourselves during finals week. Everything seemed a lot simpler when all it took to quell your worries was a bedtime story and a tall glass of chocolate milk. Your dreams were wonder-filled. Nothing was beyond the realm of possibility at Christmastime.
Tradition is what drives and sustains the Christmas spirit of adulthood. A large meal with family, hanging outdoor lights, going to the ballet, giving back to the community, an annual office party, a special church service– these are the kinds of things people seem to look forward to. Since my mom passed a few years ago, the few traditions my family shared went with her. She took pride in the decorating, the planning, the hosting, and the cooking. She didn’t expect or ask much of anyone else. She was just happy we were there. I thought I had decades before I’d have to do that kind of adulting. I wasn’t ready to take the torch when she passed, so the people we once celebrated the holidays with ended up scattering and beginning new traditions of their own.
Truth be told, it hasn’t “felt like Christmas” at our house in a while. No matter how many cookies we bake or how many gingerbread houses we decorate, something is missing. I haven’t quite cultivated for my daughter, or for myself, a mature alternative to a childhood Christmas. When my daughter was growing up, I was just as excited as she was, seeing her watch the movie “Elf” for the first time, read “The Night Before Christmas” (again!), and open a new set of pajamas on Christmas Eve. Who wouldn’t want to try and pause those moments or relive them for as long as they brought her joy?
I know that there is more to Christmas than staying busy. Buying all the stuff. Doing all the things. I know who we are celebrating. I’m still working out the “how” to celebrate. There is time and occasion yet to adopt established traditions and maybe start a few traditions of our own. If part of Christmas is a feeling, inspiration abounds.
Nicole lives in Greenfield with her husband and housecat. Their 20-year-old daughter attends Purdue University. Nicole enjoys reading and baking in her spare time.
