Holiday Bluesbuster

Helpful Tips for the Hopeless Humbug

by Margo Oxendine, Contributing Writer

�Tis the season, yet again. 

Are you merry? Well, sort of. And sort of not.

I�ll bet the holidays are the same for most adults. There is oh, so much to be done. Most of it involves specialized work. And lots of money. This year, don�t you think a tank of gasoline would be a great gift to receive? Why don�t we just all give each other gas cards, and be done with it? If you want to proffer a more lavish gift, well, how about a full tank of heating oil?

Which would you appreciate more: a) yet another sweater,  b) a seventh bathrobe, or c) a pair of beef tenderloins and a couple gallons of milk?

The real reason I�ve come to dread the holidays, though, is not about money, or choosing the right gifts. It is the empty chairs at the table.

Daddy�s seat of honor has been vacant for 18 years now. It doesn�t seem that long. Then again, it seems like forever. Mom�s chair has sat sadly empty for just three years. Since then, I have not had the heart to decorate. That would entail fondling every one of Mom�s handmade ceramic ornaments � darling little stockings and reindeer and mice (mice?), painted in bright, gay colors; the jolly Santa she painted for Daddy, when we didn�t know it would be his last Christmas. How she managed to find a Santa with a pipe like Daddy�s, I don�t know; I do know that I can�t even open the box without weeping.

Lest you become discouraged and stop reading � who needs a downer holiday column? � allow me to reveal the true secret of acquiring the Christmas Spirit. If thoughts of the holidays are making you blue, here�s a solution that worked wonders for me: Stop looking inward and moping around; get out there and start giving.

First, I volunteered to work at the community Thanksgiving feast. I don�t know if your hometown has one, but many do. This is a rewarding hoot, let me tell you. Everyone who has almost no one � and even those with someone � gathers together around a table groaning with sumptuous homemade goodies, and shares the traditional meal. Everyone is smiling. There is quite a lot of laughter. No one goes hungry. Take-home plates are loaded and boxed. Flowers and cakes are wrapped for delivery to the nursing home or shut-ins.

Then, I heard the nursing home was seeking new things to put in a holiday shop, so residents who could no longer brave the malls and masses might have gifts to give when family came to visit. This was fun! While I was there, I adopted three angels from the tree. I then had people to shop for, and the shopping was a joy! When someone�s three greatest wishes are a warm nightgown, some soft socks, and a book of word puzzles, well, you want to give them that, and lots more!

On a roll now, I volunteered to shop for the Christmas Mother program. Who knew shopping could be so much fun? Who knew the staff and managers of discount mega-stores could be so helpful and patient and accommodating?

Finally drunk with holiday spirit, I got home and raced to the basement to forage around for a few decorations. I had one particular thing in mind: the foot-high lighted ceramic Christmas tree Mom and Daddy made me about 25 years ago. That, I figured, would dress up the place. If guests dropped by, I did not want them to think me a humbug, now that I felt like Scrooge on Christmas morning.

I rummaged through every box, yet could not find it. Finally, I gave up and went to run a few errands. I arrived back home to find that my friend and housekeeper had actually bought me a tree, put it up in the living room, and decorated it. Is that not the most shining example of the true spirit of Christmas?

I feel it was Mom�s spirit who sent me to the basement shortly after New Year�s on another search for something, because there it was, right where it should have been: the ceramic Christmas tree. I cannot wait to put it up, early, this year. I cannot wait to forage through those boxes for decorations crafted with love. I know I�ll cry, but I bet I�ll be laughing, too.