.

Or don’t, it’s entirely up to you.

.

.

I could say “you” but Mariah Carey already did and continues to do so entirely too much this time of year.

I used to be crazy for Christmas. I’d decorate everything that stood still.

.

.

.

.

Yes, even the Barn Mahal.

.

.

I shopped till I dropped searching for the perfect gifts. I’d spend a fortune on fancy wrapping paper and sparkling ribbons and give you something that was almost too pretty to open. I’d send 150 handwritten festive cards and host elaborate meals. Our tree was a magnificent thing to behold… always freshly cut, twinkling with alternating strands of red, green and white lights and festooned with gorgeous ornaments.

.

.

Even the cats were impressed.

.

.

There were carols playing, sweet baked treats on the table, mistletoe over the doorway, and I enjoyed every single thing about it.

Until I didn’t.

Until the beloved family members who shared my joy passed, one by one by one.

Until it all seemed like a terrible waste of money. And time. And effort.

My husband was raised poor, one of nine children for whom Christmas meant work and hand me downs. He always went along with my Xmas mania but never really felt it… so why was I bothering?

In 2015, a year after my mother died, I simply quit.

No tree, no gifts, no meals. I cut my card list back by 2/3rds, put some wreaths on the windows and called it good. We took a trip to the Pocono mountains to escape and enjoyed a stress free week that would become our new tradition. We’ve travelled every year since and never looked back with regret. The memories are gift enough.

In answer to the question, I don’t need anything and I don’t want anything. We have too much “stuff” already. What I want is what I already have, a nice home, a nice cat and the wonderful man I’ve shared my life with for the past 40 years.

Do I miss the big bright Christmases?

Sometimes, yes. But not enough to resurrect them.

That’s my slightly depressing story. So…

What do you want for Christmas?

.

.