Holiday

The Manila norm is that the holiday season begins in September. Christmas lights dance on trees along streets while you wheedle your way home among early Christmas shoppers.

But what if there were no lights. What if there was a lack of Christmas shoppers. What if there was no Rustan's or C.O.D. (meron pa ba nito sa Cubao, dati pa 'to di ba?) to light up our nights and let us glimpse a mirage of what Christmas is all about.

It's like screaming in a forest where no one can hear you. From September 'til December.

Lonely? Nah.

Different, maybe.

Because you go through the motions --- you buy the tree, hang the decor, staple the lights, make the list, do the shopping --- but the emotions are not the same.

It's like a marriage gone to the dogs. You stay together because of the children. But there are no feelings left for each other, so you go through the motions, keep up the image, and pretend to be perfect. But the kids know. They always know.

Maybe, that's why it bothers me.

The kid inside me knows the motions and Christmas notions aren't as natural as they should be. It's all rushed, like a photograph of the beach taken on the fly, only because you promised the parents you'd send them pictures.

So if I scream unfairness for Christmas this year, will it matter, if I do it in my head?

If, in my heart, Christmas will happen on the 31st, will anyone other than me care?

I don't think they'd mind. I'd smile, chuckle, laugh. They expect this to comfort their own internal sorrows, and I will play to the crowd. I am a ham, admittedly. But inside, the holiday for me will begin where I am home. In his arms, everytime. In my family's embrace, even when we snarl and argue over the smallest things. With my closest friends whom I rarely see, but we still feel like the last time was only yesterday.

That's my holiday. And by God, I always celebrate!