THIS YEAR'S CHRISTMAS CARD

One of the frustrations of Christmas is trying to match the hype with the reality of what is a very emotional holiday. Norman Rockwell and the Saturday Evening Post gave us the first visual of what Christmas was supposed to be. In the golden age of television, it got worse. How could you compete with a Cleaver Christmas, or a Perry Como Christmas, or an Andy Williams Christmas? Television movies took it a step further, going to both extremes from "miracles in the snow" to "Griswold Christmas fiascos". And now we wax nostalgic with Ralphie in the modern day classic "A Christmas Story", which will be run on a cable channel for 24 hours on Christmas Day.

The reality is Christmas is the most stressful time of the year. It is spelled W-O-R-K for most of us. Another spelling might be M-O-N-E-Y, also for most of us. Then there are the crazy family members coming out of the woodwork, some you can dispose of, others you are stuck with no matter what you do. On a sadder note, I can give you a list of people who I know that have died around the holiday. All in all, Christmas can be the pits.

From time to time, however, one gets a glimpse of the ideal midst reality's chaos. I remember visiting one of my father's friends every Christmas when I was small. Sam lived in a magnificent house by Mill Creek Park. It is in one of the bad areas of town today, but back then, I knew it was Christmas when we drove through that beautiful neighborhood with the tall pines and maples and the snow and the smell of real logs burning in fireplaces.

My wife is from the country, and I remember visiting her house over the holidays for the first time. It isn't a large house, but sits on top of a hill with a beautiful vista. After it snowed and the clouds cleared at night, you could walk outside and see the stars and the moon reflecting off the snow, and hear absolutely.....nothing. Total silence except for the sound of the trains passing through the center of the town.

I remember visiting my Aunt Rose's house when I was little. My father took me and my brother there every Christmas Eve afternoon. It was a big old farm house on old Route 62 going into Sharon. The Memorial Day tornado took the house years ago. Sadly, it also took my Aunt Rose. They were people of limited means. But we would walk into the big old farm kitchen and Aunt Rose would be cooking a big pot of bacala stew (dried cod fish) for their Italian Christmas Eve feast. My two cousins had a "den" off the kitchen that was filled with boxing memorabilia. Electronics were not the rage as they are now. I would look into the den and see Bobby and Dominic, both 20 years older than me, huddled around a kitchen table drinking shots and beer, listening to Christmas music on a tiny, pocket transistor radio sitting in the middle of the table. On the walls were the tackiest Christmas decorations you could imagine, but they absolutely fit the circumstance. Since the tornado, I make it a point not to drive by there anymore.

Last night we decided to drive into Sharon for spaghetti and meatballs at our favorite Italian Restaurant, The Wave. We were stopped at a traffic light on Route 82 in Brookfield, and I looked to my left. There was my Christmas card for this year. A house was set way back from the road on several acres of land. Completely lining the acreage were about 30 very tall evergreen trees, all in a row. Each tree was covered with lights from top to bottom. The house was also lined in lights, and snow completely covered the ground. I looked up from the house, and over the house was an enormous full, harvest moon. We pulled off the road and just looked at it for awhile.

You don't get an ideal moment every Christmas. I am glad we got one this year. Merry Christmas.