The Holidays take place indifferent to our will. Like war, the season is thrust upon us without anyone checking to see how we feel about it, and we are left only to endure, and summarize the best we can. The Second World War was a good war, and Vietnam was a bad war. Christmas ’83 was a bad Christmas, Thanksgiving ’98 was a good Thanksgiving. Also like war, while the ideals with which we approach the Holidays may be virtuous and good, on the ground, it’s a bitch.

Today, I took down my Christmas Tree, a largely unsung ceremony that truly captures what is good about the season. Memories. The thing that throws my sister into hysterics every year and drives most relatives to heavy drinking seems to be that things happen around the holidays. People go places, interact with people, and throw themselves into a generally unfamiliar orbit.

That’s a good thing. The action, the drama, the intense emotions. We live more during the late Autumn and early Winter than we do all year. While plucking the gaudy red balls from the tree I was struck by intense nostalgia for mid December. I remembered trekking out to some far away land to choose the perfect tree for my house – and boy did I get a deal. I remembered Jill’s academic discussion of ideal ornament placement. I remembered my sister, Kitty, calling from Hungary to say that my family is a bunch of crazy people and she’s glad that she won’t be around during the Holidays. I remembered my other sister, Lora, crying over the prospect of cooking a Turkey, and my dad threatening, in complete earnest, to disown anyone who is late to his Thanksgiving dinner. I think these are good things.

To quote a person, true character is only revealed in a time of crises. People learn about themselves and others. People’s relationships evolve, and sometimes people come out of the Holidays emotionally scarred for live. All good things. The Holidays tear down the protection that people build around themselves all year, and so what if you get a little fucked up in the shit. It’s not as bad as cancer.