Christmas Au Revoir

Au Revoir, Christmas Soldier. 

Today I am packing away the ribbons and tags; storing packages, boxes, and bags.

I am basically undoing everything we did a month and a half ago. The tree that went up, is now coming down. The nativity sets, garland, and stockings that were on display, are not hidden away.

All that fuss, and just like that it is over.

Then, I reach for a painted signboard, Three Wise Men with the words, "REJOICE in the gifts of the season."

Rejoice. In the gifts.

Not the sparkly ones under the tree, but the ones that plant memories: the boys home for the holidays, the first Christmas as a married couple for my oldest son and his wife, the first visit to Augusta for my middle son's girlfriend, board game marathons, houseguests, Christmas day with my entire family, late night walks, new recipes, movie nights, baklava and cappuccino, college acceptance letters, homemade tortellini. 

And then there are the spiritual gifts, the reasons for this season: the gifts of the Magi, the angels' Alleluia, the shepherds' witness, and the Christ child in a manger. The gifts of faith, peace, goodwill, forgiveness, and salvation for all mankind until the end of time.

So yes, I am clearing away the trimmings of Christmas, the things that made the season sparkly, cozy, and exciting! I am storing the ribbons and tags, packages, boxes, and bags. But the real Christmas gifts, the ones that matter, cannot be packed away to reappear only one time a year. They keep on giving, over and over. 

I am not putting away Christmas; it is not goodbye, but au revoir. Until I see you again. 

Yesterday, tomorrow, next December, now.

In Which I Lie to our Deacon

This morning Joe and I were in Costco and ran into the Deacon of our parish and his wife.

We exchanged Happy New Year greetings and told them how we were there to purchase a new television because ours died last night. 

"We have exact measurements because we need to find one that fits our cabinet. I am not buying new furniture," I explained.

Five minutes later--FIVE MINUTES!--my words went out the window when Joe loaded a 55-inch Samsung onto the cart because the last day of a Super Sale meant there was only $100 difference between the 40-inch (which is what we intended to get) and the more impressive 55-inch.

Of course, tomorrow I need to go find a credenza or console (or something) because right now that television is on the floor. 

What can I say? A New Year. Carpe Diem. Seize the (sale) opportunity.

And mea culpa to our Deacon.