Christmas Past for V always included all the trimmings. Until he married me. If you walked into our house today, you’d never know it was Christmas. Around here, Christmas is just another day.
When we first got married, we celebrated both Christmas and Hanukkah. In addition to the full eight nights of Hanukkah, we also hung stockings and had a tree. My kids loved it—going out to pick out the tree, collecting ornaments, decorating the tree, the whole works.
What put the kibosh on our Christmas celebration was, oddly enough, putting my two Jewish kids in Christian schools. The religious aspect at school was confusing enough; I didn’t want to add to the confusion at home. V said he wasn’t attached to having a tree, and offered to give it up. We never made much of Christmas in our home again.
For me it was a relief; for V the tree was another thing in a long list of things he’s lost since he married me. Like an orderly home. Like solitude. Maybe even sanity.
V would probably insist that he is fine about all this; because for everything he’s lost, he’s gained things. A few pounds. A few laughs. The love of two step-children.
And this year he’s gained something else: my blog. For better or worse.
Not every husband would be so generous. Not everyone would accept having our life together spilled out any way I decide to spin it. V never reads what I write until he wakes up the next morning, like everyone else. He accepted this blog wih the same grace that he accepted the loss of a Christmas tree. Or the fact that I stopped making a homecooked meal every night for dinner. Or any night for dinner.
He doesn’t complain about any of that. Unlike me, V is not a complainer. In fact I think WASP does not stand for White Anglo Saxon Protestant. I think WASP stands for: What A Stoic Person. Or Without A Single Protest. That pretty much describes the attitude of my WASP husband.
So I thought I would dedicate this post in honor of what V has relinquished over the years, the tree and other traces of his Christmas past. And since I know V will read this first thing on Christmas morning, it seems perfectly in keeping with our new public/private life via blog to say: I love you. Merry Christmas.