Things are Upside Down

An internal debate is raging. Outside Christmas lights. No Outside Christmas lights. At the moment, the no’s are in the ascendancy. That could change with the weather. No one is pressing me either way. The kids, bless their hearts, are leaving the decision in my hands. It’s understandable, this isn’t the ancestral home, always decorated for Christmas. This is the retirement villa. They have their own homes. Their own children. We’re not even sure in this COVID world how we celebrate Christmas as a family this year. Sequenced drop-ins is the most likely answer.

No lights would hardly offend my next door neighbor, she’s Jewish. The cows in the bare pasture certainly have no opinion. And we live on a short, dead-end street with no traffic, which means no Christmas-lights tourists ever came my way. Besides, putting up the lights would be an external manifestation of a joy I don’t really feel and that ought to count for something. Although, what does the public really care? My wife’s death was one of many that happen every day and even though I live in a small town not many residents will note or even wonder why the Wilson’s home is dark this year.

Nope. It’s just me and Christmas. At the moment, I’m all in for putting up the inside decorations, because I live inside and I still like Christmas and I’m reminded now that I need to get cards and a few gifts, we’re even scaling back there. No one expects me to get out and do Christmas shopping. In a way, this might be good. People always talk about the true meaning of Christmas then light up their house like a strip mall and go out and spend like drunken sailors. So, this might be a good time actually to do that, think about the true meaning of Christmas, at least this one time.