December 26

The day after Christmas always sucks.  Well maybe not always.  As a kid, I kinda liked it.  It was the day I could play with my toys, unsupervised and unguided.

“Rob, don’t attach fireworks to the plane’s wings.”

Yeah, the day after Christmas was always about some good alone time with some good ideas my toys that would be destroyed before the next Christmas. That’s how December 26 fell until I grew up: then it slipped this black funk on a snow-white calendar.

As adults, Christmas is the reason for the season and the goal of the holiday. We live for Christmas, but by 4pm Christmas Day, the Christmas spirit slumps over in a holiday overload coma. Come December 26, we’re back to work reconciling the fog that was Christmas.

December 26 is not even a real day though.  Arrive at any other weekday on the calendar, and you’re sloughing through a Hell-pile of work. Arrive at December 26, you’re in a limbo of ambiguity. This is that last week of the year. The time before New Year’s resolutions are set, and before the Christmas hangover has lifted. We’re left groggy, blind zombies wandering the last week of the year, until January 1, where we can start life anew.

“More brains…”

That’s one resolution. I rarely strive for it myself, but December 26 is the day I take stock and set my new goals. What I did right, what I did wrong, and what I failed to do at all. I think that’s the real reason the 26^th sucks, because if I’m honest, my goals and achievements never balance out. I’m always left lacking in the achievement column, and the goal-stocking pours over like apprentice Mickey’s sorcerer buckets. I’ve started all this planning, and as I dreamed, the planning took a life of it’s own. When I awoke, drenched, I swam through the reality of what I’d left unaccomplished.

When I was a kid launching my airplanes into the sky I knew that by this December 26, I would have won the Indy 500 and would be looking forward to completing my astronaut career next fall. That would mean my years as a rock guitarist would start next December 26.  Looking at how many of those dreams I’ve accomplished, each December 26 reminds me of how far I’ve fallen behind.

December 26 sucks because it’s the one day I’m honest with myself. New Years I make goals to make amends and dreams until the fluffy white wonderland of Christmas sleds past. After that, my lofty goals and big dream, pale in the stark light of December 26.

Thank God my life is more than the December 26 of what I’ve done. December 26 leads to December 27, and beyond. There is always the hope of what I’ve yet to do, and each year, I may not do what I’ve planned, but I’ve done something: I’ve given love—the true test of a year is not in the dreams realized but in the love given. So long as I can say I’ve done that, I can look to the New Year with the hope of redemption, and love to carry me into the next year, where I can plan big once more.