For the first time in my life, I don’t have a “home” to go to for Christmas. Of course, my wife Michelle and I aren’t homeless — but this will be the first year that both of my parents are gone. My childhood home in Minnesota is no longer there. With the exception of one year — 1999 — when we were cruising on our sailboat in the Bahamas — I’ve always gone “home” for Christmas.
I know that I’m joining a lot of you reading this in losing the last vestiges of childhood like that.
We will spend Christmas together in our apartment in the New York City area. The city is madness now, overflowing with tourists shopping for gifts, in search of the authentic New York experience. On Sunday Michelle and I went to Manhattan, and it was utter pandemonium. And there was palpable anger and frustration. Tourists tend to cluster on sidewalk corners and stop to answer text messages on stairways leading into subway stations — all of which made getting around the overly crowded city an exercise in frustration. And that seems to irritate people. I’ve always been struck by how friendly people are in this city — but Christmas, apparently, isn’t the time for friendliness. People seem to be, by and large, angry. That is a disappointment. Understandable, of course (we were frustrated as well — seriously, don’t stop on the steps to a subway station to send a text message), but it’s still disappointing.
My one goal for Christmas is to take Michelle to Greenwich Village and walk hand-in-hand down decorated streets to window shop — and simply enjoy the season in the city. We now know that we can’t do that on a weekend unless we want to be trampled. But I’m an optimist and I’m hoping for the best — just a romantic time with my wife in a magical season — without getting killed or seriously wounded by crazed shoppers.
But it won’t replace going home for Christmas. I’m still working to get my mind around the fact that it isn’t there anymore. I’m also still trying to adjust to the fact that we won’t be in Florida. As much as my childhood home in Minnesota meant to me, so does South Hillsborough. Despite the lack of snow and cold weather, Christmas is magical there. Last year, shortly after returning from Minnesota, we visited a beach near Sarasota — it was wonderful to see locals and tourists alike spending Christmas Day luxuriating in the sun and surf. Someone had even built a sand snowman. People were happy, they were free, albeit for as long as their vacation lasted — and that, too, was palpable. Florida, to me, is home just as Minnesota was. And it was a happy home. Yes, tourists can be a pain when driving erratically or lengthening the lines in stores and restaurants but they are a happy pain. With a little patience, you can feel their happiness, too. They aren’t in Ohio or Michigan or Minnesota, and they are palpably overjoyed about that.
I’m hoping that by the time Christmas actually arrives, the mood will change from anger and frustration to good will toward all. I have a feeling it will. While large stores like Macy’s at Herald Square have been touting Christmas for weeks, slowly but surely the season is settling into the collective non-retail hearts. Decorated trees are showing up in windows, and more and more porches and stoops are colorfully lit with the lights of Christmas. There is no snow on the ground, but, of course, there is still time for that.
Home is, of course, where you make it. This year, I think, will be an adjustment year. I’m not sure yet, when Christmas Eve comes around, how I’ll feel about not traveling to Minnesota for only the second time. I do already know that I won’t miss being in airports this time of year. If ever there was a complete absence of good will toward men, it can be found — or rather found lacking — in a major airport in the days before Christmas. Plus, the cost of flights during the peak days is enough to give the one percent sticker shock.
But I do know that I will miss being in South Hillsborough. In the making of a home of two decades, a great deal of comfort was found there, along with many of our friends. It will be missed. As much as we have come to love New York City, perhaps we should take a message in that.
Hopefully this week we’ll bundle up and take the subway to Greenwich Village or Bleecker Street and walk hand-in-hand enjoying the sights of a beautiful and peaceful city at Christmas-time. Perhaps we’ll stop in to a little cafe for snacks and beverages and simply take delight in these days of peace and joy. And, most likely, it will be there that we will talk about home.