Thank You, Charles Dickens!

 So very many of our our Christmas thoughts, expressions, even traditions, come from Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol.  Thanks to that book, we all know about ghosts and happy people vs. miserly ones, especially at Christmas.  The very name of Scrooge has taken on its own meaning, as well as the expression, "Bah!  Humbug!  (What is a humbug, anyway?  Is that anything like a poppycock, or a fiddle-faddle? Or perhaps the more Shakespearean "zounds"?  Is it an exclamation or a profanity?  Inquiring minds want to know!)  

For the first time of my life, I am avoiding anything sentimental about Christmas.  Call me a Scrooge, if you wish, but it is just self-defense.  I am so weary of weeping over Christmases past, present, and future that I just want to get Christmas over with this year.

It's part of my profile...of who I am.  Every time I have been faced with problems in life, I approach with the thought that I just want to get through it.  "Let's just get this over with."  Whether going to the dentist, attending a funeral, facing something unthinkable, or trying to deal with personal failures that I caused, I do what I must in order to get it in my rear view mirror with as much dignity as I can.  (I even did it the night my daughter was born.  She wasn't due for a month, but when I went into hard labor with no lead-up, I decided I'd just get a good night's sleep and deal with it in the morning.  Yeah...didn't happen that way but is a glimpse into my brain.)   It's a kind of grit-your-teeth-and-move-on mentality that I got from my mother and my grandmother--both very strong women who endured tragedies that would have put other women helplessly on their knees.  Learning from them how to move on and never look back was both a blessing and a curse.  It has made me seem hard on the outside when my inside is total mush. 

So here I am on Christmas of 2020, alone for the first time in my life.  Alone by choice, in order to save myself and my loved ones from the virus.  Alone in the hope of being alive for NEXT Christmas.  In order to prevent meltdowns, I am avoiding anything--particularly music--that brings on tears.  Lord knows, I've wept enough!  Tired, ya know?  I just want to get Christmas over with so I can move on to moments less difficult to endure.  I miss my family.  As of December 27th, it will be a year since I have seen them.  Too long, Lord.  Too long.  

I haven't forgotten the meaning of Christmas.  I went to my church's service remotely this evening.  I don't say "Bah!  Humbug!" because I am Scrooge who hates Christmas, but rather because of self-preservation.  Let's just do this thing and to hope to be around next year under different circumstances.  

So, in the words of Tiny Tim, another Christmas Carol character:  "God bless us, every one!"  We sure need it!