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.