I’m writing this today since it’s the shortest day of the year. I detest winter because of the short days and the cold weather, and no matter how much I try NOT to become sad and mopey at this time of year, it happens nevertheless.
I’m certain I would enjoy Christmas more if I were to live in the southern hemisphere where they celebrate it during their summertime. For me, it’s not really an enjoyable time of year no matter how much I try to make it that or how much of a happy face I put on for the benefit of others as well as myself.
I read “Skipping Christmas” by John Grisham a few weeks ago, and we are discussing it in my ladies’ book club later today.
If you’ve ever seen the movie, “Christmas with the Kranks,” then you know this story. That’s the title that was given to the 2004 film adaptation starring Tim Allen and Jamie Lee Curtis. I love the movie and had long wanted to read the book to see how similar the two were. Surprisingly, they didn’t make many changes for the movie, probably because the novel is quite short.
I think that Luther has the right idea. He wants to use all the money they normally waste on Christmas and go on a tropical cruise with his wife now that their daughter is out of the house. The society of their neighborhood and friends and coworkers, etc., conspire against him, and the story ends on a sweet note that epitomizes the “reason for the season,” but I still would have liked to have seen them go off on that cruise.
Every year, I say that I want to “skip Christmas” and go on a trip, yet every year I’m still here doing the normal family get togethers and the like. Of course, the place I want most to be is with my family, but I also really want to get away from winter and the financial burden that Christmas places on me even when I intentionally don’t do all that much for it.
I come back to the title of this week’s post — those Winter Blues. I truly do believe that I’d feel much differently about Christmas if I were celebrating it during summer.
I have an issue with the use of “blue” to describe sadness and depression because it’s such a beautiful color. It’s my favorite color because it’s the color of the sea and of the sky — so many lovely shades of blue. It’s even the color of the incredible Blue Ridge Mountains. Here’s a photo I took from an overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway, a drive that I recommend everyone take at least once in her lifetime.
I wrote this poem about the color many years ago:
Blue When I am feeling blue, I like to look at something blue, Especially the sea and its multitudinous shades of blue – Azure, cerulean, cobalt, indigo, sapphire, and turquoise. The photos I took of the Mediterranean along the Amalfi Coast Earned me a blue ribbon in the county fair, and me winning anything Only happens once in a blue moon; it surprised me Like a visit from a dear friend happening right out of the blue. When we built our house, we consulted the blueprint Drawn by my true-blue brother, a draftsman. My father Helped us build it, all the while cussing up a blue streak Every time something went afoul, and I ran around Like a blue-arsed fly overseeing everything and wishing I came from a blue blood family with money to spare. There was always white around our collars, though. Thankfully, I don’t live in the late 1790s when a woman’s Intelligence and literary prowess were ridiculed by the men of London. If I had, I’d be called a bluestocking, and I would have to say, “Damn it to blue blazes! Why are men such prigs?” Unfortunately, this attitude survives to this day and often I burn with a low blue flame thinking about this surviving sexism, But even if I were to talk until I’m blue in the face, I can’t change some things. Blue will always be my favorite color. It soothes me in my very soul. Blue is the sky above me and the sea below me wrapping me in comfort. Blue are my daughter’s eyes, and their depths are full of joy. Blue is the color of my favorite fruit, the healthy blueberry. Blue is part of our flag, my birthstone, and the brightest color in the rainbow. Blue is a favorite faded pair of jeans and the book where I wrote my college exams. Blue is the kind of comedy I shouldn’t do but that I do anyway. Blue, azul, niebieski, modry, blu, bleu, bla, blauw, blau but never blah.
Writing has always been my remedy for “the blues.” I’m far too introspective for my own good at times and often let the monster called “regret” get ahold of me, so when that happens, I like to journal or write a poem or try to write something comedic or sassy to turn it on its head.
Here’s another short poem I wrote years ago when I was still teaching in which I was trying to yank myself out of my funk:
Wordless I’m wordless today as the sky is sunless Blah, blah, blah is all I emit and how I feel Nothing new, no interesting thought Just that I’m getting old and squandering My life on a normal existence -- One that has everything I should want But very little of what I truly need. Doldrums, humdrums, ho-hum Great life, sad life, full life, empty life.
If I write enough, I usually succeed at giving myself a figurative slap upside the head and knock some sense back into myself. Short, gray days like today, though, are tough, but on the flip side, after today the days begin to lengthen and each day brings me closer to spring and then summer and the warmth that comes with those seasons.
I try to look at these winter days as the perfect writing days because it’s often too cold to be outdoors for long, so it’s the best time to stay inside and write. I prefer not to write while I’m “blue,” though, but once I get started, the writing takes over and overcomes those feelings of sadness brought on by winter — most of the times, at least.
SAD is the abbreviated term for the “winter blues” — Seasonal Affective Disorder. I know I have it, so I write to combat it because writing is my passion and what brings me joy. I also write by a large window that lets in as much sunlight as possible.
My dogs also are a great comfort to me, and walking them each day that the weather allows (which has been many so far this winter) is really good for boosting my mood. Who can stay sad when she has these two for company?
Due to the holidays, I will probably take next week off, but I’ll be back in the new year to share progress on novel number seven (with paying subscribers) as well as other things.
If you have SAD, take comfort in knowing that tomorrow will be a longer day than today and the one after that will be longer yet, and so on and so on.
Merry Christmas (unless you’re skipping it!) and Happy New Year.
Tammy Marshall