Christmas was my Mom’s favorite holiday

Christmas was my Mom’s favorite holiday. She decorated every room in our childhood home. It brought her much joy and satisfaction.

She baked dozens and dozens of cookies. Platefuls that she gave away as gifts to those she cared about. My brother often pointed out that, “We only get the burnt and broken ones!” which wasn’t far from the truth. In fact, one year, Mom wrapped up a tin of cookies for him. and … you guessed it … they were all broken and burned. Mom did have a great sense of humor.

She also loved to put an album on our stereo and play Christmas music, Andy Williams one of her most cherished musicians and singers. Along with many other oldies but goodies … Perry Como, Bing Crosby, and Frank Sinatra, to name a few.

To this day, when I hear an Andy Williams holiday song, my Mom comes fully to my thoughts and heart. Andy Williams will forever remind me of my Mom.

I do find the memories of Mom’s joy of the holiday to bring me pleasure. Especially now that she is no longer with us … this year being the first year without her. I miss her enthusiasm and enjoyment of the holiday. I am grateful that I spent Christmas day with her last year, just she and I, in her apartment.

A deeply cherished memory.

However, I do have to admit that in my younger years, Christmas was not my favorite holiday. It all felt like too much work. Too many expectations. Too much spending. And, quite frankly, often disappointing.

I did love the tree. Even as an adult, I would lay under it in the dark of night and stare up into the branches. It was peaceful and brought me much joy. The beauty of it, the smell of pine, and the lights all aglow.

For many years, I found myself trying to emulate the Christmas that I grew up with, to capture the joy that my mother felt for the holiday. Each year, I would fall short, no matter how much I decorated, wrapped gifts, sent cards, baked cookies, played music, and cooked a holiday meal.

No matter who joined in on the festivities, I would feel stretched, stressed, and joyless. Worn thin. Worn out.

Until I realized I could not capture something that I did not feel. I could not be someone I was not. I could not make the holiday look and feel like someone else’s ideal, fantasy, or traditions. I had to do my own.

That is when simplicity at the holidays, as it is true in the rest of my life, came into my awareness. It was something I valued, cherished, and enjoyed. 

It did take me a while to release the guilt I felt for letting go of so much of my past traditions. I would often find myself slipping into old patterns or behaviors, thinking I needed to do them … Like sending out slews of Christmas cards. Now I send out only those I am divinely guided to send, which is far less than any other time in my life.

I would then remind myself of what I truly valued in life. Simplicity.

Does this mean that Christmas has lost its meaning for me? Absolutely not. Instead, for me, making it simple has opened up my heart and time for those things that are truly meaningful for me. No longer crowded out by that which was obligatory or meaningless.

Which reminds me … Guess it’s time to put on Pandora and play those holiday tunes that, like my mother, bring me true pleasure. Here comes Andy Williams Mom!

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