Holidays and holy days

So Christmas is past for another year. Now that I'm older, it doesn't have the same excitement it used to have. Don't get me wrong...I love to receive presents, and I got some cool stuff this year. And I love to give presents...if I can find something unique that speaks to me of a specific loved one, then I squirm with anticipation while they open it. But even just buying ordinary things is fine, because I know that they are appreciative people.

But when I was a kid, gifts were magical. We were not well-off, so Christmas and birthdays were hotly anticipated events, chances to tap into wishes and dreams that you normally put on hold, kept hidden inside because you knew it could never come to pass. But twice a year, you had a chance to keep your hopes up, because maybe, just maybe this time you would get your hopes fulfilled. It happened sometimes. Not always, but enough to keep you dreaming inside.

My sister's birthday is on Christmas day, so her two days collided. I always felt bad for her, because she had to go for a whole year to wait, and then had to share the spotlight with a holiday. It was almost the same for some of the rest of us...my mom's birthday was around Thanksgiving, and my brother and I are 2 years/1 day apart, so we always shared a birthday celebration. But that's really nothing compared to sharing your birthday the Holy of Holies like my sister did.

So mom always made a special effort to split the day in two. First half would be Christmas, with all of our frenzied rush to open gifts and play with toys and run around like lunatics. Then the second half was birthday--a cake just for her, gifts wrapped in birthday paper, the whole thing.

But now we're adults. Mom passed too many years ago, and things aren't the same. Her joy at watching her kids grow got transferred to watching her grandkids, though they hardly have any memory of her. There's no "need" to keep up the tradition, but there's no need to stop it, either. So this Christmas I coordinated with my other siblings and we arranged all of the party info without my birthday sis having to do any of the work. We brought food and drinks, we brought birthday-wrapped gifts for her and her son (whose birthday is two days later, so now they're sharing a party!), and the holiday became a holy day.

Not necessarily holy in a religious sense, but it was set apart, unique. There is a reverence that is exclusive to those who have known and loved one another as long as we have. Faults are known, but not held against. Laughter is deeper because the jokes have a long history. Tears can be shed without shame, because they come from the same well we all have long drawn from.

Then again, maybe that is the religious sense--to know and be known, no pretense or artifice, and to be loved through and through. I'm no theologian, but I know this was a holy day, and it had nothing to do with the cultural trappings of the holiday. I am blessed.

Hug me

I have a Facebook account so I can keep in touch a little more frequently with family and friends. It's a really great resource, and I am happy to get to hear what's going on in the lives of people that matter to me. Normally, I'd have to wait till Christmas get-togethers for some of these updates.

However, there is one aspect of Facebook that I'm struggling with. That is the hug/heart issue. This is probably not as much of an issue for guys, but I'm a girl, so I guess it's assumed that I would be grateful to get a hug or a heart. Isn't that a feminine thing to do? All warm and fuzzy and showing your appreciation.

I hate it. It's just does not ring true for me. People that I don't hug in real life send me hugs. Hearts made out of flowers? Please. I guess I'm not a good representative of womankind, because it's really hard for me to tolerate.

So far I just cautiously ignore them. But I have one friend who hasn't caught on and continues to send them. I am not sure how to handle it...do I e-mail and tell her "Thanks, but no thanks"? Do I block the application? (That's what I did with Farmville requests--what a relief!) Do I continue to ignore them? I don't see her very often, maybe 2 or 3 times a year, so I don't have much of a chance to say anything to her. I've only had a profile there for a couple of months.

I'm not completely anti-social. I'm nice to people, I respond to their posts, and in person I inquire after their children and families and remember what matters to them.

But online--wow, it just doesn't feel right to pretend that those cutesy little hugs and hearts mean anything to me. My sister has a friend who was sending her a heart-a-day for a while; I teased her pretty mercilessly over it. I guess it's kind of like Christmas cards--it can become an obligation rather than a treat. "Oh, Mary sent me one so I have to send one back."

Maybe that's the root of it--I hate feeling obligated to respond to someone else's efforts to be friendly in a way that feels untrue to my personality. I don't reach out and hug my friends every time I see them, so why would I do that online? I don't send cards or flowers on a whim (my closest real-life analogy for those hearts.) Wouldn't in seem disingenuous to do that online?

On the other hand, maybe I just suck at being a friend to women. Thank God for men!

Special Delivery

I'm hanging out at my brother's house again today. Why, you ask? Let me tell you...

I was here yesterday to sign for a package. He often has to travel for work, and many times I have stayed to dog-sit for him. This time, his girlfriend was going to dog-sit, but she had to work during the day, and he has a package being delivered that required a signature. (A Christmas gift for one of his kids, but shhh! Don't tell!)

I got to his house at 8:45 a.m., just shortly after he left for the airport. No problem, just hang out with the dog, the day is mine. I've had deliveries before--they usually show up around 10 or 11 a.m., so I figure I'll get home later that afternoon.

So I wait. And I wait. I read all the graphic novels I've brought with me (which are really his, loaned to me). I play with the dog, I play on the computer. Talk to my boyfriend as he gets ready for work. And I wait.

At 4 p.m., I decide maybe I'll just kick back on the recliner and nap a bit. Dog at my feet, blanket on my cold toes, I nap off and on, waking every time I hear a car driving past, looking out the window to see if it's the delivery driver.

My brother texts--any news? Nope.

My boyfriend texts--where are you? Waiting.

My brother texts again--well? Nope. Got a tracking number? Can you verify that it went out for delivery today? Not with him, unfortunately. He lets me off the hook, but I know he won't be home for several days, and he'd feel better if he knew it was signed for. So I stay.

8 p.m., no package. My boyfriend decides to drive out and hang out with me--I'm going to spend the night and be here again for the next day, hoping to catch the delivery guy. In the meantime, I have a package back at the apartment that didn't get delivered because I wasn't home. D'oh!