Filed by Devon at 12:03 pm under Atheism, Damn Hippies, Love

It’s not like I’ve been slacking. Really. I have not had a day off in WEEKS. And between the fact that I’m never home and the fact that when I am, I’m in the midst of a very moody, angry depression brought on by grief, I’ve not been much in the mood to write about anything. My cats have even noticed. They are cuddling more with me than usual. But maybe that’s just the fact that it’s getting cold.

When I was a kid, the holidays were a time to spend reflecting on the year that had passed, a time to spend with family, a time to renew the spirit, eat delicious comfort foods, and laugh. We’d decorate the house to the gills with lights and brooms made of cinnamon sticks and pine cones and santas for Christmas. We’d feast and play and mostly, even, get along (a feat with four kids, spaced over twelve years). The holidays were my favorite time of year, and not just because of the mountains of presents (which we inevitably searched for as soon as my mother made the mistake of leaving me in charge while she ran errands).

My siblings and I banded together — sometimes against one another, certainly. There was the year that Colin, the older of my two younger brothers, and I convinced Mer (my only little sister) that Mom was getting her a yellow Big Bird rain slicker for her big gift. We told her we’d seen it and we described it, and she was so good to pretend she wasn’t disappointed that Mom would get her such a thing, even though it was so not what she wanted. Colin and I thought this was the funniest thing ever and kept up the ruse the entire month of December until Christmas. So this is what I loved as a child about the holidays: the togetherness.

When I was in 5th grade, my grandfather died right after the new year. The holidays became much more crucial to me after that: we had to keep things together and happy and tightly knit and enjoy each other because who knows how long we all have. Two years later, my aunt died on Thanksgiving. She was ailing and had been sick for a long time. The last time I ever saw her was on Halloween. My whole family packed up right after school and drove down to my aunt and uncle’s house and visited in costume. She was just finishing her daily dialysis when we arrived, and all the machines in her bedroom scared me with their whirring and beeping and general machine-ness. She liked the costumes and we hung out for a while. In retrospect, I think the grown-ups (including my aunt) knew she wasn’t going to hang on much longer, which is why we went. I was mad at going because I wanted to hang out with friends, and scared that she looked so frail. On the way back home, I decided I was glad that we had gone. Thanksgiving was very sad that year.

So the holidays have taken a turn since my childhood: they have gone from joy-filled childish rabble-rousing to a bittersweet time of reflection.

This Thanksgiving, we’re going to Florida, where on Friday, we’ll celebrate the life of my grandmother. She died on Halloween. I will see my entire family on my dad’s side. There will be tears, sure, but I know my family, and I think there will be more laughter than tears. And that’s okay. Funerals and memorials are more for the living than those who have gone. I’ve found that it is part of the human condition to laugh even as we grieve in instances such as this one (where the person lost is one who lived a long, full life and died in a peaceful state).

So, it’s holiday season again. And it’s been another hellish year (or maybe not for you.) Call or visit your family. Embrace them and tell them you love them. Remember the real meaning behind the idea of Christmas spirit, which is not as much tied to rampant consumerism as it is to sharing and reflecting and enjoying the company of others (says the atheist, but more on that later). Volunteer to hand out food at a soup kitchen, visit the elderly and read to them, go caroling–hell, do something whimsical. Take time away from your busy life (as I’m planning to do with mine) and let’s all do something to brighten the world a little more as we get into the darkest part of the year.

In a season marred once again by death and grief, I find solace in embracing life more fully. And making inappropriate jokes.

That is all.