Lots of reflection happens around Christmas. Past traditions are revisited. Reconnections are made among not just strands of exterior illumination, but also friends and family we’ve not seen since the last holiday gathering. And everyone starts rolling out their year in review lists.
They are all sobering reminders of the amounts of passing time. It’s an equally shared commodity in the temporal economy, at least as far as each day’s worth. But how time is distributed across the years can be grossly unfair.
I experienced that recently in learning about the passing of a friend from my youth. I hadn’t spoken to her in two decades, we weren’t connected on social media, and I’d never met her husband nor the daughters she left behind, yet I was heartbroken at her life being cut short... For the family I didn’t know and the parents and brother of hers I remembered. There was also something else, a turmoil that further shook me inside.
It was the thought that despite the separation of years, miles, and life choices, the once familiar was lost forever—even without recognizing it had been missing for a long time—and would never be reconnected again on this side of eternity. Every week or so another fond memory of yesterday seems to be severed from reality; not just people, but the other nostalgic nouns of places and things, too.
When a piece of your youth passes, it's not as severe as tragedies in the news, tribulations involving friends and family, or just all of 2020. Still, it's a bit of a downer.
Like when Toys ‘R’ Us went out of business—or sort of did—and I took my son there to use a gift card he had before it became worthless. Walking into the mecca containing ALL the toys used to thrill me, especially during Christmas season, when page-long wish lists of much of their inventory were handwritten in my best penmanship to ensure the intent was clear. Growing up halted my being a Toys 'R’ Us kid, but their bankruptcy meant no one, including my own kids, would be ever again.
I guess it's pretty trivial, but it produced a tinge of emotion, much like not ever being able to taste Pudding Pops again.
Same with revisiting my childhood home a few years ago. The remodeling the current owners did was amazing, but honestly, it felt offensive, a trampling intrusion on my former innocence.
Tom Petty and Prince dying silenced the soundtrack of my early days.
Once idolized athletes became broken down.
Previously relevant things were forgotten.
All these fading remnants point to the hard fact that youth is fleeting. And the sobering realization growing older means more time has accumulated behind us than what remains ahead. Change is inevitable. Father Time is undefeated.
Fortunately, reflection isn't just about melancholy memories of what was. It can also be a reminder of what is, and an encourager of what could be. Especially at Christmas. Hope, rebirth and, redemption are why we celebrate this season, and a New Year of reconnection, rejuvenation and projection are just around the corner… Opportunities to create new memories to cherish with those currently involved in our lives. And maybe even finding a way with someone's help to redeem the Radio Shack gift card I still have.
Comments