Our Observation

Every year we think we’ll prepare more diligently, make our lists and check them twice, get everything done well ahead of time and finally enjoy the holiday season like our own Christmas movie. But 360 days or so later, it’s all a rush to the finish, with only a promise of a little magic that one special morning.

But not yet.

Welcome to the last minute of the Christmas shopping season. It’s already crept up on you, as the torrent of work, holiday planning and present buying suddenly arrives on that final, panicked moment of truth.

Do you remember any presents you received last year? Maybe there’s a reason. There’s a chance that it meant something more to you than just a gift card or that new iWhatever.

If you remember it, it probably had more meaning behind it than the money required to buy it. Anyone with $20 can buy you a DVD. Only the people who truly know you can buy you something that goes far deeper than that: A symbol of the bond between two people.

It’s hard to go wrong with heartfelt, no matter what form that expression may take. And in all of those tiny tokens, lies a bond borne forth from the past that defines us not as a person, but as people.

Winter holidays in centuries past came almost from necessity. We needed each other to live through a bleak, oppressive winter to see a bright, hopeful spring on the other side.

But with the comforts of modern society, we’ve distanced ourselves, physically and existentially. On our increasingly solitary journeys through our daily lives for the better part of another hectic year, the holidays, for just a moment, bring us back home again.

And in those moments, we’re reminded of why we need each other more than the modern world would have us know. We share a history as we share each other’s lives. Without that unifying memory, our personal bonds mean little when protracted over blurry decades of wistful remembrance of what was, and could have been.

After toys and fads and tech has come and gone, supplanted by another year of forward progress, the memories remain. They’re memories of being together when outside forces work tirelessly to render us apart.

Maybe it’s not too late to relive a memory with someone you love. Find an old photograph of a shared experience together, put it in a special frame, and wrap it up. Come Christmas morning, someone will open up more than a gift. They’ll relive a happier time in that moment that maybe they needed to remember in a tough time like today.

Anton Chekhov once said, “People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.”

Happier times rarely occur in solitude. This Christmas, make loneliness take a holiday too.