December 12,13,14: This Relationship, Beginning to Panic, Making Memories

Finally Eddie said quietly, "I can see this relationship is something we're all going to have to work at," and the hatchway opened.

That is the spaceship Heart of Gold's computer, whose feelings have been hurt by Zaphod Beeblebrox.  Eddie's words to Zaphod could have been spoken in any house on Christmas morning, because this time of year has a habit of ratcheting up hurt feelings and dysfunction.

Yes, I am still alive.  Yes, I have been drowning in grading and writing and working.  Yes, we did get another snowstorm on Thursday that dumped an additional six or seven inches of white work on my little corner of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  Yes, I have a deadline looming for my Christmas essay.  And, yes, I am beginning to panic about whether I will be ready for Christmas this year.

None of the items on that list are complaints.  Well, maybe the snow was.  It's just that this time of year seems to turn up the volume on everything.  If you have a disagreement with a family member, that disagreement becomes a Hatfield-McCoy feud.  If you have money problems, those problems become the Great Depression.  If you have marital issues, those issues become Kramer vs. Kramer.  If you feel like a failure, that failure becomes George Bailey ready to jump off the Bedford Falls bridge.  Everything is more intense at Christmas time.  To paraphrase Eddie the computer's words, Christmas is something we're all going to have to work at.

I try not to let unrealistic expectations rule my life at this time of the year.  I don't try to cook the perfect turkey, brined for a week and slow basted over a yule log in my backyard while everyone stands around singing Christmas carols, eating the homemade petit fours, drinking hot chocolate spiked with Saint Brendan's Irish Cream.  As much as I would want to do that, I don't live in a Hallmark movie.  Instead, I try to concentrate on smaller things that can make a difference in the lives of people I care about.

For me, this Christmas is about making memories.  I am trying to give my daughter and son and wife experiences that they can hold on to for a long while.  Not because they're getting new cars or Apple Watches or trips to Walt Disney World.  I want them to remember this Christmas for the laughter and happy tears we share in the morning.  The songs we sing in church on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.  The cookies we sneak while watching the TBS Christmas Story marathon.  And being together, loving each other, in the glow of the tree.

Will there be disagreements?  Probably.  Will my son yell at my daughter?  Probably.  Will everyone, at some point during the day, retreat to their own little corners to read or text friends or nap?  Probably.  Will I receive a major award from Italy marked "fragile"?  Maybe.  That's also a reality of Christmas.  It doesn't erase all the difficulties of the other 364 days of the year.  But, for one day, maybe we can set aside all of those things and simply enjoy who we are with each other.

That's Saint Marty's Christmas wish this year.