“I don’t like Christmas. It’s not like I’m going to set fire to the giant tree in the shopping mall or anything like that. It makes me feel odd, that is all.”
“What do you mean by ‘odd’?”
“It’s all so fake. When I’m standing in a supermarket queue in the first week of November and I’ve got to duck under a huge piece of red tinsel and then be subjected to carols played on pan pipes, I just get irritated. It’s fake; that’s the right word; fake! The supermarkets and all the department stores are only doing all of the decorating and music and special offers to get me to spend money! It’s all capitalistic manipulation! They are trying to lure me into their stores to get me to buy stuff I probably don’t really need and I can’t stand it!”
Richard was all red in the face and he was clearly upset. He was trying to loosen his shirt collar from around his neck, but the first 2 buttons were already undone. It wasn’t making a difference. Maybe someone turned off the aircon. Was he having a panic attack? He was now shifting around on the soft brown sofa, like he wasn’t able to get comfortable. His doctor stood up with a look of concern on her face.
‘You ok, Richard? I’ve never seen you get quite so upset.”
“I’ll be ok. Let me just have some water and stretch my legs.” He could feel his pulse pounding in his throat.
Dr Lewis had been treating Richard Gladstone for a year now. She couldn’t diagnose him with anything specific; at least not according to what she’d been trained to do. The poor man just seemed overwhelmed by life and its circumstances, and sometimes you just need an ear to hear you out, without being bullied by objections and ideas that ‘things are not so bad, you’re just overreacting’. He knew he wasn’t. Richard needed an ear and Dr Lewis was the one. He asked around, Googled, and even pulled the old Yellow Pages’ out of the hall cupboard. Weird how he never used it anymore. It was so much thinner than years ago. He ended up with her number scribbled onto a small piece of paper torn off a golf score card. His friend Geoff once played golf with Dr Lewis’ husband, also Dr Lewis. He practiced as a dentist in the city center. ‘Word of mouth is best’, thought Richard. ‘I’ll call her.’ It took him a month to build up the courage.
“I’ll see you again next week, Dr Lewis. I’m not sure what got into me today, but you’ve got to agree, Christmas just doesn’t feel like Christmas anymore!” Whatever than means. Richard didn’t always say the right thing at the right time. but at least he knew what he meant. Christmas seemed to be missing the love that it used to have. The sincerity. The heart. Christmas was feeling cold and forced and something that everyone just did, because what would the end of year break be without gifts, and cards and debt.
Richard didn’t feel like going home. What was the point of being distracted by the TV he knew he’d switch on as soon as he walked in the room. The sun was still high in the sky and the cool summer breeze made the sticky heat bearable. A walk along the quiet street would be the tonic for this evening. Alone; except for the sound of his shoes on the tar, and the thoughts tumbling around his head. What is Christmas really all about anyway? The giant reindeer in the town square, and the morning radio show presenters’ mention that there were only 3 shopping weekend’s left were a fat clue, but the day is only 24 hours long. Is it worth getting all excited for just one day? There has got to be more to this life than what we make of the holiday season. All the questions. Maybe we should all just go with the flow?
To be continued…