Funny Answers to What Do You Want for Christmas

When I was a little girl, my mom used to say that she didn't want anything for Christmas.

How boring and depressing.

However, now that I have a family of my own, I find myself answering that same question, the same way. And I totally get it.

My mom was almost forty when I was born.

I was not the baby of our large family, but close.

My older siblings actually graduated from high school while I was in preschool, so by the time I was a teenager, they were long married with children of their own.
They lived nearby so when the holidays rolled around they were always present.

My mom loved that, spending the holidays together.

Even though my dad's seat was empty, the table was more than full with her kids and grandkids.

There was laughter, a few sentimental tears, tons of good food and gifts. A lot of gifts.

Back in those days we all exchanged. No Secret Santa or Grab Bag games, everyone gave to everyone else.

The packages were everywhere, spilling out from under the tree, as bags full of them made their way into the home of whoever happened to be hosting that year.

While I have never been a materialistic girl and have always loved giving (there is no greater thrill), I would be lying, if I said that as a child I didn't get excited at the prospect of getting.

Diving into catalogs, marker in hand, making lists for my mom, my sisters, my friends and then my husband, I remember waiting to open my packages with great anticipation.

What treasure could be inside??

A Fair Isle sweater, a doll, a walkman, the hottest cassette tape, something sparkly perhaps? Didn't matter, big or small, it was a once a year thrill to open those boxes.

So I was always surprised when I asked my mom what she wanted and she said, Nothing.

My gift is being here with you kids, spending the day and the season with my family. I don't need anything else.

It was the most lovely thought...and also the most depressing.

To a teenager and a young adult listening to her, a vibrant woman, saying that she didn't need anything but being with us, sounded terrible.

It was what my ninety year old grandmother used to say.

And she really didn't need anything.

She was old. She didn't really go anywhere, she wore a housecoat and didn't cook anymore.

Her home decor had been cemented in place since the 70's. She had several pairs of slippers, a few too many bed jackets and enough pictures of her grandkids to wallpaper her studio in my aunt's house several times over.

She literally needed nothing.

So we bought her chocolate covered cherries. Every year. For over a decade.

And I'm not even sure she liked them.

But my mom?

She went out, she decorated and dressed. She was a young and beautiful woman who would look great in something new.

She loved sparkly things, too. Sure, she had a great job and shopped for herself often, but it's different when you receive something as a gift.

When she said she didn't need or want anything, but being with us, it made me sad, like she was giving up on life, on the idea of unexpected surprises.

And on the magic of Christmas itself.

Little did I know that it wasn't my mother who had lost the magic, but I who didn't truly understand it...how it changes as we grow, how the season and what we hold precious and dear about it morphs as we do.

And now, on the eve of fifty, I find myself on the other side of that same question and I predictably respond with a reply I know all too well.

Nothing.

My own Christmas magic no longer comes in a box.

The kids give me that familiar blank stare. Then they say, Really? Come on, nothing?

Well, ok, not nothing.

I want exactly what topped my mom's list all those years ago.

I want to spend the season with my family. This year more than ever...

I want to listen to carols and sing loudly around the house, I want to shop with my kids, I want to attend parties with my husband and friends.

I want to sit quietly by the fire and stare at the tree.

I want to visit my mother and hold her hand, while a young Natalie Wood quietly discovers her own Christmas magic in the background. Gosh, I miss her...

I want time to craft, to bake and to go look at lights.

I want a house full of laughter, a few sentimental tears, tons of good food and a lot of presents spilling out from under the tree...for them.

Of course, their reaction to my response is much like my own all those years ago.

They hate it.

They tell me I'm boring and old, that they want to shop for me.

So I tell them I get it.

And if there happens to be something in the pile under the tree for me on Christmas morning, well, I guess that'd be okay, too.

As long as it's not a box of chocolate cherries.

Sorry grandma.

What do you want for Christmas?

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Source: https://www.exquisitelyunremarkable.com/2017/12/what-do-you-want-for-christmas.html

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