The Odds and Ends of Christmas

We've sold my deceased mother's condo, and are just doing the final clear-out before the new owners take possession next month. I found it very odd to discover, among her possessions, box after box and bag upon bag of Christmas ornaments and decorations.

I had never seen any of this stuff. There were some sales slips in the bags that showed most, if not all, of the items had been bought in the last few years. What's so strange about this Christmas collection is the fact my mother went out of her way to downplay Christmas for the past 37 years. It was my impression she actually resented Christmas and felt it was all a big imposition.

Christmas had never been a big deal at our house. But until I was about 14 years old we always had a real tree, with some beautiful heirloom lights and ornaments (that my sister and I got possession of in our twenties). Then came the day when my mother put her foot down and bought a 4 foot tall fake tree from Sears. She had decided real trees were just too much trouble to buy, drag home, erect in water in the tippy tree stand, deal with dropped needles embedded in the carpet, and then dispose of after the holiday. At least the fake tree was green. But we had to switch to other (low voltage) lights and smaller decorations due to flammability and size issues.

Sometimes my father would string some lights on the house, or on the bushes flanking the front door. My mom would carp it was a waste of time and electricity. Her indoor decorating efforts pretty much consisted of hanging the Christmas cards we received along a string.

My mother also heartily disliked cooking, cleaning and hosting guests - all of which the Christmas season typically involves. The one thing she did enjoy was baking shortbread, which was strictly rationed (as were the seasonal Japanese oranges). Luckily, my Aunt Agnes made amazing traditional Scottish shortbread and would send our family a huge tin each Christmas, along with her homemade toffees.

We never lived near any of our relatives for the most part, so guests were rarely an issue. For four years during my childhood we did live within driving distance of my paternal grandparents, whom my mother loathed. By October in each of those years, she had mounted full blow campaigns to discourage her in-laws from joining us for Christmas. They ignored her and did come a couple of times, but were never invited to stay overnight. It was drive, arrive, eat and leave.

Within just a few years of buying the fake tree, my mother declared that it was now too much trouble to drag out and decorate, so no more tree - period. Gifts had always been minimal (the mainstays were socks, underwear and flannelette granny-style nightgowns), but slowly became even more so. What gifts were given, year after year, were wrapped in the same heavily creased, re-used Christmas paper (old tape still visible), topped with old bows flattened from being crushed in storage the other 11 months of the year. A Christmas morning ritual was gathering up the used bows and refolding the wrapping paper for the next year. And she adopted this approach well ahead of the recycling trend!

As soon as I moved out on my own, I started hosting Christmas with all the trimmings for my family. Lights, decorations, real tree, home cooking and gifts with new wrapping paper and pretty (uncrushed) bows. I noticed my mother began taking home the wrap and bows I used for her gifts, and I started seeing her use this left over wrap for her gift-giving the following year. That didn't continue for too long, because she soon declared "no more gift buying/gift giving of any sort" for Christmas. This wasn't some philosophical stance against the materialism of the holiday; she was just cheap. I still bought her gifts regardless, and she started handing me a cheque for $25.00 every Christmas, with specific instructions to use it to purchase the turkey.

I remember Christmas 1999 most vividly - it was one of the first Christmases in years that she had to host a traditional celebration for a crowd (i.e., the 8 members of the family of her second husband - who were also staying with them), entertain and cook a turkey. I was bedridden that year recovering from surgery, so had nothing to do with any of this situation. But I remember her phoning me that Christmas night after dinner and complaining bitterly about how much work it all was, and how much she absolutely hated doing it.

Recently unearthing quite a vast treasure trove of Christmas ornaments and decorations - all carefully squirrelled away in different closets, drawers, and storage chests at her condo - has been surreal. It does not in any way fit with the woman I knew, and her decades of Christmas complaining and resistance. She had accumulated enough Christmas stuff to decorate a full size tree and make an entire house look merry. There was every kind of tree decoration from china ones, to pewter to blown glass, as well as candles, tea towels, and boxes of Christmas crackers, tablecloths, placemats and napkins. There were Christmas-themed serving dishes, lots of mugs, and little knives with candycane and Christmas stocking handles for spreading liver pate or cutting into a cheese ball. Everything was brand new and never used. The most common item was ornaments in all sizes, styles and shapes that depicted Santa Claus - from tiny ceramic Santas less than an inch long, to a 1 foot tall glass version of St. Nick.

I believe it can only mean my mother had a deep, inner, secret longing for Christmas and everything that it evokes...the love, connection, sharing, generosity, good will...but somehow she could not embrace any of it and truly enjoy it. How very sad.

We packed it all up and delivered it to Good Will this afternoon. I believe the things my mother bought with such fervour, yet never used or enjoyed, need to be released to find homes with people who can embrace the season and celebrate all the joyous feelings. In essence, my mother has given her last Christmas gifts.

May there be peace.

Todo bien. (It's all good.)