Hi honey, how are you? It is so good that you were able to make it home for the holidays this year. I know how busy your boss keeps you, and your father and I are both so happy to have you home. Now, I am sure you may have noticed something that is a little bit different this holiday season.
There is no joy.
Christmas has always been such a wonderful time of year full of peace, love, and joy. But some years these warm sentiments are harder to come by than others. And this year has been a real doozy.
Can you believe it has only been a year, since, well, it has just drug on. There is nothing like a constant bombardment of “What did we elect?” to sexual harassment claims to travel bans on ENTIRE COUNTRIES?!? I guess we should have known it was going to be a terrible year when we started with that whole Moonlight/La La Land fiasco!
Your father and I have discussed it, and we have come to accept that this is the world we live in. Therefore, now that you are turning thirty we think there needs to be a limit on the emotional output we give every year. That is why this will be a joyless Christmas.
We are certain that this can’t be coming as a complete shock to you, dear. Remember when you were ten years old and you found out Santa Claus was fake? Then you had to have noticed your stocking started to thin out in high school. By the time you were in college Maw-Maw and Poppy were only giving you cash as a gift, and now they don’t give you anything! People may say Christmas is about family and being with the ones you love, but really it is about loss, and I think this year we have all lost a piece of our innocence, so why not throw joy out the window with it?
We have been putting on a brave face for a long time, and we just can’t fake it anymore. Easter was a lot political talk, but nothing we couldn’t handle, but by the time Labor Day rolled around we were really starting to wonder what the hell was going on. I honestly can’t believe we actually made it to Thanksgiving. I thought North Korea would have bombed us months ago.
I am surprised that joy made it this far before we had to cut it off. We lost peace around the time of the third mass shooting this year, and love has been decaying with each new sexual assault headline. It is hard to love mankind when you realize what sacks of shit they can be. Excuse my language, dear.
I can’t let Christmas fall prey to the terribleness that is 2017, so I am taking out the joy before it has a chance to hurt me. The way everything is going, I won’t be surprised if elves start announcing sexual harassment claims against Santa Claus. No way a white dude with that much power hasn’t pulled his penis out at an office function, just to claim that he thought it would be a “present and not a predicament.”
Your father and I have tried to use decorations and holiday traditions to infuse joy into the holidays, but it just doesn’t seem to be working. Our manger scene is down to only two wise men, and last year we had to replace baby Jesus with a dead possum we found.
I tried baking Christmas cookies to get in the holiday spirit, but I couldn’t get up the energy, so I ended up just placing twenty saltines on a baking sheet and putting that in the oven. Our neighbors also invited us caroling, but we only ended up singing “The End” by The Doors and “Kill Me Now” by The Vettes, which I hadn’t even heard of until this year.
We are just so tired.
We understand that you have had a tough year too, and that you were probably hoping Christmas would be a break from it all. But, if I have learned anything from the hellhole that is 2017, it is that there are no breaks. Just when you get used to one devastating realization, The New York Times will crack another one wide open. So, you better get used to a joyless Christmas.