A Grown-up Christmas
If you visit my house in December, you won’t see a Christmas tree or a pile of wrapped presents—just a wreath on the door and a few other sparse decorations. It’s not that I don’t celebrate Christmas or that I harbor any disdain for the season. It’s not a comment on my personal beliefs at all. It’s purely practical. One of my cats climbs trees, one cat eats wrapping paper, and one cat knocks things over. Christmas decorations are a recipe for disaster.
Since Ernie, Tyler, and Abby are cats, not kids, they don’t notice that they are missing out on all the trappings of the modern commercial Christmas. They don’t beg to see Santa (actually, they’d rather not) or have an extra Christmas cookie before dinner. Being childfree—and being far enough removed from childhood myself, I feel no pressure or obligation to make Christmas all about presents, Santa, and cookies. I feel no obligation to make sure everyone gets what they want under the Christmas tree, lest there be disappointment. And as a result, since I don’t have to turn Christmas into “giftmas,” I can concentrate on the meaning of the season.
Christmas has taken on a lot more meaning since I was a child. Growing up, the focus was on presents—what my brother and I wanted and what we got. We spent the weeks leading up to Christmas so wrapped up in anticipation of opening presents that when the wrapping paper finally came off, the air of expectation vanished like a popped balloon. Having no relatives in the area, Christmas dinner was just like any other except with more food. I ate with my parents and brother every evening, and Christmas was no different, not special in any way.
Now, as an adult living 100 miles away from my parents and brother, Christmas has become something special. We’ve added two (human) members to the family gatherings—my grandmother, who now lives with my parents, and my brother’s fiancée. Although we love them dearly, my parents’ six grandcats do not normally join in the festivities since they are not fond of traveling, but we do remember and talk about them often. Christmas has become a time for catching up, a rare opportunity for all of us to be together to talk about our lives and our hopes for the coming year. Having grown up and set out on my own, I have finally come to appreciate the family “togetherness” of Christmas in a way I hadn’t when it was just like any other day.
Christmas has also taken on new meaning in my friendships. Being childfree and single, I have developed friendships with members of my church in a way that many families do not. As services, I don’t isolate myself within my family; I join a group of fellow church-goers, mostly childfree and empty-nesters, who have over time become my friends. At Christmas, we look for each other amidst the crowd so we can sing carols and hear the Christmas story together. We’re far more interested in the family and friends we have seen and are going to see during the holiday season than in presents or Santa Claus. The same is true of my friends outside of church. I have a number of childfree friends, and we recognize that Christmas isn’t just a “children’s holiday”—it’s an opportunity to celebrate friends and family and the joy they bring to our lives. Some of us send Christmas cards, but mostly we email to let one another know that we’re thinking of one another.
Above all, having grown up and shed the trappings of childhood, I can more fully appreciate the significance of Christmas to my faith—the reason for the season. I don’t have to deck the halls with trees, ornaments, stockings, and tiny lights. I don’t have to stand in line on Black Friday to buy the latest fad toy. I don’t have to give in to the secular and commercial distractions that retailers tout as soon as they box up the Halloween displays. I can do as much or as little as I want. The relative lack of stress frees my mind and energy to concentrate on what I deem important—the birth of my Savior.
I am free in the silence and calm of my own home to let the few decorations remind me that this is a season of joyful anticipation. I am free among my adult friends at church to listen to the Gospel readings and try to understand the spirit of friendship and giving that God calls us to at Christmas. And I am free to share the joy of the season with my friends and family—even though I must do it with words, deeds, and decorations that don’t appear tasty to my cats.
Copyright Julie Nisley. Published 1 December 2009 in Editorials.
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I love your point how not having kids around the holidays actually makes it easier to fully appreciate the reason for the season. So often the “reason” gets lost at the mall shopping for gifts and all the rest.
Some couples I interviewed for my book Families of Two found the holidays fun in that they could get their kid “hit” with friends or family who have kids. They like kids just don’t want their own. Others find the holidays frustrating because it can feel so focused on the kids and their gifts. Your post reminds us that we can experience the holidays in any way that feels most meaningful to us—with or without kids for that matter.
permalink — 16 December 2009, 16:56