The 4th Day of Christmas

On the 1st day of Christmas I was feasting, imbibing and giving gifts to loved ones, fluttering with excitement in anticipation of their reaction.

On the second day of Christmas I was at the movies, playing with my new Christmas toys, and out to dinner with the family.

On the third day of Christmas, my parents, sister and Sydney left the ranch, I had to go back to work, and I got a headache.

On the fourth day of Christmas I nearly launched my alarm across the room, pulled the covers over my head and retaliated - played hooky from work - drifted back to sleep so I could continue dreaming of my novel super power to rewind life, returning to the 23rd when Christmas had yet to begin.

Christmas is actually supposed to be a twelve-day celebration, yet on the 26th, Light FM stops playing Christmas carols, the window displays suddenly feature Valentine's Day themed merchandise, you witness the sad tossing of the first round of Christmas trees to the curb, and all the people that were over for the party, go home. It is all very sad to me, and even sadder when I factor in the thought that Baum's days are limited.

There were years past when I had similar symptoms of post Christmas Day depression - a condition that was first discovered by my Aunt Dee back in say, '83. It's the kind of feeling that continues to choke you up when you least expect it, tapping into your stock pile of tears. I had a bad case of it in the middle of a hallway at St. Edmund's in fifth grade, another one in a bathroom stall at Ellis during freshman year, and yet another one mid-500 yard sprint in Loftus during junior year of college. This year it hit on the I-88 commute, yesterday morning, right after I said goodbye to my family. Tears streamed down my face at the thought of returning home in the evening and not having my sister and Sydney there to go for a walk.

In an effort to deduce why the fourth day of Christmas blues hit me harder than they have in a long time, especially when I'm a mere two days away from another amazing party in the British Virgin Islands, I tried to think and write it out this morning. And came across both the reason and my means for overcoming it.

This year, as I had done in fifth grade, freshman year of high school and junior year of college, I gave Christmas giving my all - I put my heart, soul and bonus into making Christmas special, big, epic for others. I cooked, baked, colored, trimmed, decorated, and wrapped some of the most memorable gifts I had ever purchased or made. Then, with pomp and circumstance I gave them away. Now, I'm out of gifts. There isn't one left under the tree and I have to wait a whole year to give again.

Or do I? Cue the solution ... Why is it that we save all the big gifts - all our big hugs - all our special meals for Christmas and a couple other holidays? Why can't we (I) keep giving everyone our all throughout the year, especially since it makes us so happy? My pre-New Year's resolution - to keep the Christmas spirit, giving, peace, joy, and feting in my heart and in my actions every day.

I started last night when I kept on cooking like Christmas. The smile came back.

Today, I continued to give like Christmas. One big gift for our ranch. Big smile came back.

Tomorrow, I'll keep on loving like Christmas. I predict absolute happiness.

And on Friday, on the sixth day of Christmas, I'll be partying like Christmas once more in Tortolla. Joy.

Lo.