Not being a cradle-born Episcopalian, I still get confused on what day of Christmas we’re on after the fat elf has left.
That’s right. We Episcopalians and Catholics believe Christmas got started several days ago, and not right before Halloween. Our old hardline Episcopal priest from St. Dumbledore’s (names have been changed to protect the innocent), refused to put up a tree until Christmas Eve.
Now I realize many people already are sick of Christmas (and it pains me to hear that) by Christmas Day. I blame that partially on the hurry-scurry pressure of advertising, shoving Christmas decorations on us in the middle of summer. By Thanksgiving weekend, it seems as if we’re the last people dragging our decorations out, but that’s okay with me. I want to savor every bit of Christmas I can.
Our tree will be up until Epiphany, or later if we’re lazy. I’m still enjoying the candles I bought with their delicious if faux evergreen scent. The real tree is being eyed with caution and still watered, and the needles are swept.
I still serve meals off our holiday china, and savor my cocoa in a huge Santa mug. The stockings still hang on the mantel for midnight chocolate foraging, and some presents are still trickling in from FedEx and UPS.
Soon enough my children will be off, one to New Zealand, another back to school in Boston. We’re not hurrying anything, especially Christmas, not knowing what next year will bring, where we will be, or how we’ll celebrate then. For now, it’s more than enough to enjoy the holidays and be thankful for the time together.
Merry Christmas, Y’all!