“…walking home from our house, Christmas Eve. You can say there’s no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa we believe…”
That’s a Christmas classic right there! Established 1979! WOOHOO!! I remember singin’ that bad boy at the top of my lungs back in primary school music class. I also remember having a lot of logistical questions about it too. Like, A LOT. The biggest one being what the crap were Santa and the reindeer doing ON THE GROUND? Hello? You guys fly!
Man, wasn’t life great back in primary school? Recess, morning snack time, and nary a government mandated curriculum in sight. The good ole’ days. Especially when it came to Christmas. I mean, yeah, you were stressed. Were you gonna have to be the donkey in the church Christmas play again this year? Did Santa REALLY know when you’ve been bad or good? Would he let you skate by with that lame ass apology letter you hastily tacked on as a PPS to your detailed Christmas list? But you weren’t STRESSED. LIke, grown-up stressed.
Of course when you’re a kid, you don’t know that kind of stress even exists. The kind of Christmas related stress that may have prompted Grandma to throw herself in front of said reindeer.
Did y’all ever think about that?
Maybe Grandma had just had enough. Grandpa wouldn’t help her with ANYTHING. The entire family was filled with ungrateful little whiners. And, for the love of all that’s good and holy, the Christmas cards didn’t go out. Again.
Maybe Grandma was tired. Tired of trying to live up to the myth purported by the media, mainstream television, and those romance novels she kept hidden under bed. The idea of a perfect body or a perfect marriage or a perfect home? I hate to be so blunt but that’s complete bullsh-. Um, crap. That’s complete crap. All of it. Because “perfect” my friends, is a sham. It’s in the same category as unicorns and mermaids. Lord have mercy, we want ’em to exist but they just…don’t. We can strive for and believe with all our hearts but we’ll never find any of the three. Not real ones anyway. All we’re gonna end up with is frustration. Frustration and bitterness. And that’s never a pretty picture. ESPECIALLY at Christmas.
I’m kinda thinking that’s where ole’ Grandma found herself on Christmas Eve. Tired. Empty. Frustrated. Maybe she wasn’t really trying to end it all by stepping in front of that reindeer. (Do you think she got hit by the ones in the front and then stepped on by all the ones behind ’em? See? Logistical questions.) Maybe she was so blinded by the fake Christmas magic that was stampeding in her direction that she ran towards. She ran towards the shiny, towards the myth. And things didn’t end well.
Don’t be discouraged by Grandma’s demise though, okay? Because what you CAN attain-what we can all ACTUALLY attain-is our own brand of perfect. Our own Christmas magic. And the beauty of that kind of perfect and magic is that it’s tailor made Just. For. You. It doesn’t make you feel like a loser because you’re constantly falling short. Instead it takes all those perfectly IMPERFECT pieces of your life and wraps them up into one gorgeously imperfect package.
Sound like something you can get on board with?
All you’ve gotta do is stick with us over the next eight weeks because it’s goin’ down for real.