"Sad faces painted over with those magazine smiles ..." is a song line that I've always loved. It's especially pronounced during the holiday season. Try as we might to embody a Norman Rockwell version of Christmas, it often ends up being a different kind of painting.
We drag out the plastic Jesus, the inflatable Snowman, the electric icicles and the synthetic garland. It's either white lights, colored lights or lights out. The scent of a fresh tree slowly dies in the stand or a spray can seeks to achieve the same. The radio blast endless versions of the same songs to make the holiday bright or make you want to get a knife.
The stuff that happens in kitchens is amazing. Some of the greatest culinary achievements of all time occur. These are balanced with the worst culinary failures. Countless last minute trips to the grocery for things long forgotten take place. Of course the lines are long ... and the one ingredient we need will be the one item not on the shelf.
There are parties to attend, families to reunite, presents to purchase and return. Some of the greatest acting occurs as many of these presents are opened ... and some of the most heartfelt moments will also occur as the paper is ripped off the box.
Churches are gearing up for the big services. Choirs are practicing cantatas which will be sung once and then forgotten. Ministers are salivating at the annual chance to "be the center of the universe for twenty minutes" as my friend Guy Sayles once put it, in front of the largest audience of the year.
The poor are actually remembered during the days leading up to the birthday of Christ, then they're put away with the rest of the decorations. Nursing homes are decorated and the visitation traffic is up, but then it quickly is down again. Hospitals try to diagnose good cheer but most prescriptions will go unfilled.
It makes me mindful.
The beginning this was so different. Joe the construction worker was hauling his pregnant wife back to his hometown because the government had ordered everybody to that. Of course Joe's family had all moved so there was no place to stay. Hotels were jacking up their prices and if there was a place to call a room they rented it. Lobbies, Broom closets, laundry rooms and even Stables out back were all suddenly revenue generating. It was good for the economy.
But at the same time ... the stars shined brightly in the sky whenever the clouds recessed. Wise guys came and went. Choirs sang ... some heavenly and others straight from hell. Mangers will full or empty
I turn and look at the lone Christmas decoration in my house. It sits beside the flat screen television. It is an ornament of a house with snow on the roof and a Snowman holding a reef standing in the front door as to welcome everyone end. It is warm and fuzzy. Above the front door are the words "New Home 2011".
It is that.
It's all new.
Christmas and how I celebrate it is being created on a daily basis. The family I'm doing it with are not blood related though we've grown to love one another deeply. The old has been thrown away and the new is being ... created. It's like a baby being born.
It's funny. I'm very much caught up in the moment. Not the Spirit of Christmas so much, but the understanding of what I have, who loves me and who I love. I perceive the opportunities lying in front of me while continuing to chronicle the good and the bad of the things I've done. This Christmas is much different from the past several which were much different from the several before that. Next Christmas will be a cosmic shift from this one.
But I'll tell you something ... the smile on my face is not a painted one ... or one from a magazine ... and it's certainly not anything Norman Rockwell could ever comprehend ... because it was given birth in the Stable in my heart.
