This season's so festive - and fleeting
/The Boston Herald
Beverly Beckham
My living room is all dressed up for a party. It's never looked better. It's bedecked and bespangled, garland over the fireplace, a tree in the middle of the room, white lights, fake snow. Think Lana Turner in ``Imitation of Life.''
I peek at it every day and think, ``I should sit in here and enjoy this for a while.''
But I don't.
My daughters come over. ``Let's go into the living room,'' I say. But they head for the kitchen to make tea or into the family room because this is where the toys are and where their babies play.
So why did I even bother to decorate the living room? I can't see it from my office. And we don't hang out there at night simply because it's not as comfortable.
It's like a fancy dress that you buy because there's a party coming up. You love the dress but it hangs in your closet because, what do you know, the party isn't as fancy as you thought. Or the night is too cold, or the dress too bold, and at the last minute you wear your old standby.
And then the party's over.
Before you know it Christmas is going to be over, too.
Every year I put Christmas books on the coffee table. ``A Christmas Carol.'' ``The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,'' ``Two from Galilee.''
And every year I say this year I am going to sit in the living room and read them.
But I don't.
Last weekend I read ``The Littlest Angel'' to my granddaughter, Lucy. We sat on the floor in front of the tree and I put on Christmas music and Lucy sat on my lap. Then it was my grandson's turn.
The moment was pure Christmas.
``Come for lunch,'' I say to a friend, thinking, ``OK, we'll sit in the living room then.'' But she says, ``I'm too busy. Let's meet some place halfway.''
``I can't wait to see you,'' I say to my cousin.
``It's going to have to be after Christmas. My business is crazy this time of year.'' She owns a florist shop and her business is decking the halls. So there's no fa la la time for her.
I stopped by a friend's the other night. She has three trees in her living room, one real, two fake, all decorated, all perfect. We sat on her couch and it was a wonderland.
``I never sit in here,'' she said. ``Who has time?''
``But you should,'' I told her. The room was beautiful.
In theory, this is what Christmas is about, home and family and friends.
``We should invite people over,'' every one of us says this last week before Christmas. It's what we want to do, relax with family and friends.
Instead we'll sit in our cars in long lines of traffic only to wait in other long lines to buy gifts for people we don't have time to see.
It doesn't make sense but it's what we do. Maybe we should start thinking about decorating our cars.