CHRISTMAS IS NOT EASY

When I was a kid, Christmas was as easy as falling out of bed and running to the tree and doing this head swiveling survey to see just what was there.

After those carefree self centered days, it became more of a set of expectations and though the pageantry and the emotion of it all remained, it was more of a family gathering and a confirmation kind of thing. Here we are gathered up one more time. I never see a Christmas tree that I don't see Christmas trees of years past, and that doesn't always bring joy and celebration. Often it is hard work.

The past is your teacher but not necessarily your friend. Teachers are not there to be your buddy, but to teach. To bend your mind. The past is always saying as if a voice in the wind: Grow up! Accept change and move on. It's just another day - right? Not really. But it's special because it hits you in the face everywhere you turn. Your past is what hits you in the face harder than anything.

Christmas is like that. Mother and Dad are no longer there. The set of friends and family who gathered then are gone or scattered to the four winds. The boundaries of my life have moved so many times as to defy the surveyor's transit.

One year, in another life, we decided not to have a Christmas tree. We hung some little lights on a rubber plant in our TV room. That did it. We swore not to do that again. Even though we had presents around the plant it was a rubber plant! I mean, what did we expect?

CA and I usually go out somewhere and cut down a live tree and bring it home and do he whole thing, going through the heroic recitation of the provenance of each ornament. Talk about the past invading the present. It was fun. It was, for me, tedious at times. But deep down inside, it was - forgive me, I promise not to throw this one out many times - A TRADITION.

This year we are alone and have a small table top tree that is already decorated and wired and looks lovely sitting in the East window of the living room. It's enough. It really is.

We'll do what we always do on Christmas day. Open gifts. Hang out on the telephone for a while with distant family and eat. Then in the evening we will go to China Rose for our dinner. We've done that for years when we are in Maine. Sometimes, in the afternoon, we will drive out to Popham Beach. It's specially nice and full of silence, power and ever changing dunes. It's special. It's our way of being in the moment. The sea is a most eloquent teacher.

The Sea always says to us: MERRY CHRISTMAS.