For the first 21 years of my life, I transformed into the Grinch every December. I liked Christmas, of course, but I didn’t love it. At least not the way everyone else around me seemed to.
From a young age, I had a natural distaste for knick knacks and clutter. So why in the world would decking the halls with snowglobes and messy tinsel and paper snowflakes be a good idea?
And of course it never quite goes away after Christmas. I threw innumerous death glares at my neighbors tacky Santa still living in their front yard in March.
On a more philosophical level; it bothered me that everyone put so much significance and pressure on one day. As if this one day of the year had to be the most special and the other 364 were just leading up to the one day worth living for. In my opinion, I’d rather have 364 really nice days instead.
Then I graduated college and Christmas wasn’t handed to me anymore. And I found myself inclined to hang up some (tasteful) decorations. And maybe bake a dozen Christmas cookies or two. When Christmas isn’t something that’s just guaranteed to happen whether you like it or not, I began to realize how wonderful it really is.
Fast forward to this afternoon when I got teary-eyed walking through the post office. And no, I wasn’t crying because of the absurd inefficiency created by one of the government’s largest beuracracies, but because the place was packed with people and their packages, all wrapped with care and being sent to the far corners of the country to loved ones.
And while I still aim to make the other 364 days of the year as pleasant and joyful as possible, I know now that special days and excuses to celebrate don’t come around all that often and we should take advantage of the time with loved ones while we can.
So this Grinch’s heart is slowly growing 3 sizes too. A very merry Christmas to you!