Epiphany

It's a funny time of year. Whilst one should be full of optimism and hope, and be happy after a long period of celebration, rather than looking on the bright side I can't help but feel a little blue; in a the-party-is-over kind of way. There are many sorry sights in life, but for me there is nothing sadder than (sorry Smokey I must call you on this one) a bald, naked Christmas tree blowing down the street in January, a bit of tattered Lametta clinging to it like its last vestige of dignity. If you are in the market for a metaphor, this one is loaded and ready to go. Something that was once adorned and adored, taking pride of place in the family's hearts and home, has been unceremoniously abandoned.

I start every New Year with a somewhat heavy heart, packing away the Christmas decorations to me is another loaded metaphor. Last year January 5th fell on a Monday, so it was on a dark, cold and rainy Monday morning (Smokey, honestly, how could have missed that one?) that I dismantled Christmas. This year I took advantage of a bright and sunny Sunday morning, a few days before Twelfth Night, to set about one of my least preferred tasks. As I started to pack away the glass baubles from the tree that my Mother and I had carefully hung in place, I felt a wave of that sickly sensation of sentiment which suddenly catches you in the stomach. Was only just over a week ago we were that both singing along to carols and dutifully decking the halls as instructed? She is in her seventies and I am in my forties, but we were both full of excitement and anticipation. Now it was all over and being boxed up.

But on this bright, sunny, Sunday morning a few days before Twelfth Night I had my own mini epiphany. Why was I attaching so much sentiment to glass baubles? What was really about Christmas that I really enjoyed? I can always make more time to see my family and friends. I can easily give more and be more gracious and appreciative in my receiving; in whatever form the offerings might present themselves. I am fortunate enough to be able to eat rich fruit cake every day of the year if I so wanted, albeit without the peaked frosting; the Christmas icing on the cake. Heavens I could even have that too if I so wanted. Christmas is the time of the year when we are given permission to share, but who needs permission? Christmas is a state of mind that I resolve to carry through into 2010.

So I marked the box 'trimmings', because that is all they are, and stowed it back in the attic, but downstairs, in the rest of the house, the party is far from over!

Happy 2010!