Drift into Christmas

It snowed yesterday, for the first time this winter. I went to work early in the very gray December morning, driving very carefully on streets that were beginning to ice over amid just sub-freezing temperatures. It was rather gloomy but nice. Peaceful. I made it to work in plenty of time. 

December 5, which was yesterday, is early for snow in Maryland, but it’s not crazy early, and it wasn’t a lot of snow. It’s clear and cold and bright this morning and there’s a pretty coating of snow on everything. It looks Christmassy. 

For the last few weeks, I’ve been drifting through the days. To look at me, you wouldn’t know that anything was off, but everything is off. I’m only halfway here. But it’s Christmastime, and I have Christmastime things to do. It’s Saturday morning and I have a whole day ahead of me to shop for presents and decorate the tree that’s sitting in my living room and maybe watch a Christmas movie. 

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I grew up in Philadelphia in the 70s and 80s, and the radio was our constant companion. We listened to the radio in the car, of course. But we also listened to the radio at home. I had a clock radio alarm clock, and I listened in my room all the time. We turned the kitchen radio on first thing in the morning, and we brought it outside so that we could listen on the front stoop. WMGK and WDAS and WMMR and WIOQ and WXPN were our soundtrack. 

Riding in the back seats of our parents’ cars, we started waiting for the first Christmas song of the season right around Thanksgiving. Hearing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” (The Jackson 5 or Bruce Springsteen) or the Carpenters’ “Merry Christmas Darling” or even the barking dogs Jingle Bells song for the first time was a highlight of the year. 

Now I listen to Sirius in the car. I listen to Spotify when I’m walking. I don’t hear commercial radio very often anymore, but on Friday morning, I was listening to a local station, and Elton John’s “Step into Christmas” started playing just as I was about to drive onto the base. The star on the top of the Walter Reed tower was twinkling and the snow was falling. It looked like Christmas; and just for a moment, it felt like Christmas. 

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I shopped on Saturday. I’m not finished, not by any means, but I made a huge dent in my list. Then, in uncharacteristic fashion, I got to work wrapping very soon after I got home. The dining room table is piled high with wrapped gifts, because the tree still isn’t decorated, so I can’t put the presents under the tree just yet. We’ll get to the tree in a day or so. Everyone is busy. 

It’s only Monday now, a very still and silent and cold white-gray December Monday, but I’m already planning for this weekend’s holiday tasks. More shopping, more wrapping, and cookies. I could happily skip all of this, but my family loves Christmas, and there’s something to be said for doing something just because it makes other people happy - even (especially) if it’s a thing you don’t really want to do. I’m not in a Christmas mood yet. But I’m going to fake it until I make it.