Putting the Happy in this Holiday...

[shadokastur]

My Only Gift

I grew up poor. Not as poor as my wife had (she, her father, her mother and her three brothers actually lived in a tent at one time!), but poor still. The holidays were a particularly tough time for my family and I was witness to more fights over money than I even care to remember. My parents would work themselves to the bone, my mom holding down three jobs at times and my dad constantly too tired or irritable to anything more than watch a movie or rest. I grew up hating the holidays. I thought Santa Claus was a saint for what he was doing, bringing joy to children that, the rest of the year, would have little or none. Though I was not homeless myself, I really identified with those that were, those that had little or nothing. A couple of years went by and the money-fights constantly reared their ugly heads sometimes getting really vicious, hurting me just as much (I believe) as it hurt my parents. Then it happened. I found out that Santa Claus wasn’t real. Ouch! It seems like a harmless enough realization but for me it meant that the pain caused by the gift-giving holidays was partly my fault! Like I said, I grew up hating the holidays.

But life and commercialism wouldn’t let me forget that the holidays were there so easily, and so I had to find some way of dealing with these ‘rapes of the spirit’ as I had come to see them. It didn’t take long for me to adopt a policy that I thought fit perfectly: “The best gift you could bring me is yourself.” This philosophy worked very well whenever a birthday / holiday get-together was planned and, for those who felt that they absolutely had to bring something, I would suggest some snacks or some food to help feed all those who’d be attending. Time moved on and friends drifted apart, getting caught up in the rush of life and all of its responsibilities. The frequency of get-togethers tapered off and we called each other every now and again when the whirl of it all would temporarily subside. Then I got married… and she liked the holidays.

Man, what had I gotten myself into?! How could I possibly keep myself aloof of all the holiday madness if she actually enjoyed it? Needless to say, we got into a few arguments about it, like if we were going to tell our new son that there was a Santa Claus or not (you can pretty much guess which side I was on) and if we were going to try to buy gifts for people. I argued with “If they really care for us, they won’t mind if we don’t bring them something and I didn’t tell them to buy into all the hoop-la!” and she would counter with “But I want to buy them something.” How can you argue with something that simple? You can’t. Except by asking “Why?” and that won’t get you much of anywhere. Oh, and arguing about money and I’m not about to bring that monster back to life!

That is how it was for the last three years but when I realized that Valentine’s Day was soon approaching and she was already getting ready for her share of it, I thought that this year could be different. I would show her my philosophy in action! “This year,” I promised myself, “was going to be different!” This year I was going to put more thought into the holidays and try to figure out some way of showing Melissa (my wife) just how much I appreciated her. I didn’t want to go the stereotypical route of buying her flowers and candy (for which, I recently discovered, there’s a reason it’s a stereotype)! I wanted to show her something real and from the heart. Anybody, writer or not, can tell you how hard it is to put to words the affairs of the heart. Damn near impossible. I tried writing a poem, which I found is pretty difficult and seems just a touch insincere when you’re trying to force it. I thought I would get a book about Origami and fill a warm bath with paper swans. Yeah, that was a great idea! Having that hemmed up, I patted myself on the back and went about doing my usual routine. So the days rolled by and I lost track of Valentine’s Day until it was upon me. Crap! I missed my opportunity to show her what I felt was a true gesture of what she meant to me and now I would look like an ass when I come home with candy and flowers. But no, I thought. I promised myself that this year would be different.

Valentine’s Day was coming up and, as poor people do, I was beating myself up about the money (that, of course being poor, I still didn’t have) I would love to spend on spoiling my wife. And that invariably lead me down the path of self-hate and scrutiny of the inefficient decisions of my past which in turn took me into a mania about how I’m going to “Change my life as of right now!” and get into school for something that I have no love of nor a care to pursue. Then, all of a sudden, I realized this ridiculous pattern! What the hell have I been doing?! Yes I wanted to make my and my family’s life better but what options have I looked into? What have I REALLY done? Then another thought hit me: as helpful as this knowledge of my own self-defeating pattern was, it wasn’t going to change the fact that Valentine’s Day was still breathing down my neck and I had once again gotten mentally swept up in my strong feelings about my own self-worth or lack thereof. So I turned my attention once again to the issue at hand: ‘How can I make a meaningful statement to my wife on a day that seems riddled with imposing price tags, cheap, sugary treats and stuffed animals that look like they were bred at The Paris Hilton Zoo?’ I thought about this all day at work and for two hours afterward at the library. I looked at the time and I knew that Melissa would be starting to get worried about me. A slight feeling of defeat started to creep over me and my thoughts again began to build momentum toward my lack-of-money-self-pity-trip but, luckily, I had learned where these thoughts would take me so I looked for another venue, something that I had failed to see, something simple I had just somehow overlooked. I couldn’t just ignore the day’s presence, this hadn’t gained me anything up to now; I couldn’t just be angry at myself for my past decisions, there’s was nothing I could do about them in the few remaining hours to make a difference today; I could just go home and say “Happy Valentine’s Day baby! I love you.” and that would be good enough for her, but not for me, that’s not why I took up this whole line of thinking. “Think, think, think.” I was like Winnie The Pooh repeating it over and over again to myself. What had I missed? What had I missed?!! Wait a minute! Slowly, a thought came bubbling to the surface, bubbling up from the prehistoric depths of Jung’s Collective Unconscious, from a time in our youth before we, as a people, had formed our opinions about this life. Slowly the bubble grew and grew until it finally burst open and its contents were offered up to my thought structure: It was my opinions that had gotten in my way before now! I couldn’t see the forest of my own intention for the trees of my incomplete opinions. When a child brings home a hand-made Valentine’s Day card with everything misspelled and the heart colored green, any mother will accept it and place it somewhere prominent because after all it is the spirit of the thing (gift or no) that counts. Granted, the card was probably a class project and the child was probably more interested in doing something else, but the mother will treasure it no less and I had just learned something from this fictional family account: It said to me “Do something sincere.” I picked up my things and went straight home and when she came to the door to ask me where I had been I just smiled and kissed her. She smiled back and dragged me inside to show me what she had gotten for our Valentine’s Day but I made her put the stuff down and I kissed her again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

We eventually looked at the stuff she had brought home but instead of crap, I saw care. Now, I still have a problem with gifts and I will always think that commercialism is the bane of sincerity, and I still believe that some holidays are just a “load” (who really cares about President’s Day?) but I’d rather have a friend than a thing any day. So, it is my intention to hereafter use these days for what I believe they're really intended: to give us an opportunity to take a step back from the craziness and appreciate the things that are most important to us and to find a meaningful way to express it.


Peace and love to you all,
REY

[Tobias]

heh...i think you're going to be one of my characters in my screenplay that actually has a grasp on reality. Because you do.

I once again didn't have anything for valentines day to give to anyone (save for mommy). Unfortunately, the only person i really wanted to spend the day with is in another country. But i emailed her, and attempted to call her (my phone doesn't wanna do international calls...im working on that conundrum). If anything, i just want to know she's doing well. I don't really mind if she sends me anything, and i know she just wants to see me as much as i would liek to see her.

So i know what boat your floatin around in rey. I'll be the right oar for ya. That's my strong side.

~That is all
Mike

[Doot]

Rey, I think you are fantastic and with all the slings and arrows you brave it all and you pony up with the most sincere of all actions.

You are an inspiration. It is the simple gesture that all our thoughts are focused on the one we love that makes it all the worth while.

Thank you for a great read.

[GAAZ]