Ho! Ho! NO!!!: Why I Won't Skip Past Thanksgiving and Start The Christmas Season Early

I don't know what got into me, but for some reason I felt led to post this status recently on my FaceBook account: "I boycott [the] Christmas-before-Thanksgiving movement." The first response posted to that was, "Where is the dislike button?" I knew there would be more of those type responses than not. I wasn't trying to provoke people or judge those who put up trees a month or two early or listen to Christmas music the day after Halloween. I can even hear the argument coming that we should be focusing on Christ's birth, so what, then, is the harm in extending the Christmas season a little longer than just the month of December?

Many of you who know me personally or through this blog know that I lost my first husband just days after Thanksgiving. This year will mark five years that he has been gone. We were married for five years and four months. I've been without him almost as long as I was married to him, which seems so odd to me, but that is a whole other blog. It has taken a while for the joy of Thanksgiving to seep back into my heart, but I think it's definitely getting there. Last year my new husband proposed the night before Thanksgiving. He said that he knew that this time of year was not easy for me, but also felt that this was the right time to propose and begin happy memories together. As hard as this time of year always feels, he was exactly right -- we have started to reclaim this time of year as a time of love, happiness, and togetherness as it always had been in my life.

Why, if this holiday and this time of year has so much anguish and bittersweet associated with it, do I want to anticipate it so singularly? Why would I put myself through the torture of facing this hailstorm of emotions, simultaneously sweet and sorrowful, each and every year? Why not focus on the coming King, the Christ child? Why not put others' needs and delights in my crosshairs to keep me in the Christmas spirit?

I believe that to grieve the dead is a holy honor, a duty, a labor of our love. And I cannot only think of T. here. I think of the roll call of people I love -- not loved -- who no longer share this meal with me each year. I think of T.'s easy laughter when I would be flustered about some kind of drama with the family or preparations of the day. I think of seeing the ivory-colored Ford truck pulling up to our house hours before the meal was to be served, before my mom had brushed her teeth or bathed for the day, and my grandparents getting out and coming in to a house that smelled of roasted turkey. I remember the straw hat and blue coveralls my grandfather would wear, how loud the television would be so he could hear it. I can remember my grandmother walking in with more than one dish of her dressing, the crowning glory of our feast. Remembering this day, these people takes me back to a time when life was simpler, straightforward, and I felt safe and loved. Why, for the love of all things sacred, would I be in a hurry to gloss past this? When I think about the blessing that these people were to me then and how they continue to be now, I cannot imagine giving this holiday second billing.

Thanksgiving is also a time for humility. Am I the only person these days who can still comprehend the first five or six letters in the name of this holiday?!? How could I not want to stop to take the time and bless my family with a meal prepared in love, thanks, and humility when they are such precious gifts to me from God? How could I possibly want to fast-forward past one more opportunity to tell my God thank you for not forgetting me, for lifting my head when I was too weak to lift it off my heavy chest, for blessing me with love and life, for ministering to me through children, parents, and friends?

If I could rewrite the calendars, I would more than likely emphasize things like Advent and Lent -- seasons of reflection and preparation -- over their culminating holidays. Christmas and Easter should be something we celebrate and partake of every single day of our lives as Christians. I can buy someone a gift any time; I don't need Toys R Us or Barnes and Nobles to remind me to remember others. I won't get into a sermon about how materialistic our society is. I think we all have a good grip on the world in which we live, and how we, too, regardless of how much we like to rail against it, are just as guilty of falling into this trap to various degrees, myself included. I just wish that we would be in less of a hurry to "get past" Thanksgiving some days. Thanksgiving isn't just a holiday or a meal. It is an orientation of the heart.