Holiday decorations are in the stores, and Thanksgiving is not until next week. This makes me anxious. I fear if I wait until after Thanksgiving my carefully thought out presents will never be unwrapped, because I won’t have time to buy them. It was much simpler when holiday shopping began after Thanksgiving.
I don’t remember exactly when it happened,
but somewhere between childhood and adulthood
it was decreed Thanksgiving and Christmas be closer,
and a week, maybe two, were taken away.
Records from that time have been searched.
I can’t find where or when it occurred,
but trust me, I know I’m right.
As a child I could buy all the presents needed
with time left to contemplate a train set or bike for me.
There was loads of time to snoop.
When Mom wasn’t looking,
I could seek out her hiding places,
shake and rattle the wrapped presents,
then replace them just the way they were.
Now I can barely get the shopping done
or wrap the presents in time for Christmas day.
My kids could snoop all year and find little,
only last year’s crinkled ribbons and red bows.
Every year I make a declaration:
I’ll start earlier.
It doesn’t seem right
Thanksgiving must come first.
I’ve given it some thought,
and I’ve put more thanks in thanksgiving.
Now I’ve more time to reflect,
to remember why I frenzy like I do.
You don’t have to be a Christian
to celebrate a season of giving.
But I’m still searching,
trying to find who took that week or two
and where they put it,
for I know it’s gone.