Only in my dreams

Not everyone’s winter holidays are all peace, joy and light. Expectations are impossibly high, ratcheted up by every media outlet in the country; possibly in the entire planet. In the Western world, consumerism is strong and we’re continually blasted (starting these days well before Halloween) with exhortations to buy that perfect gift for everyone on your list. Not to mention decking the halls, preparing and consuming feasts, putting on and attending parties.

All of this only highlights wealth disparities in our society—or even just differences in economic security. I don’t think any other time of year so acutely plays up the delta between the haves and have nots. Indeed—between the haves and probably never will haves.

There are calls for charity, of course; we receive blizzards of donation requests—which puts yet another stressor on some of us, because how can we support them all? (Also, it pisses me off some, because why should a hungry child only receive our generosity in December, when she’s hungry the other eleven months, too?)

In fact, Advent is meant to be a time for preparing to receive the Messiah into our midst, a time of quiet, of contemplation, of inward anticipation of this Gift, not the kaleidoscopically manic whirlwind of Hallmark Movie Channel festivities this month has become. But turning inward and reflecting in the quiet can open you up to less-than-joyful emotions, so I get it why people would rather double down on holiday expectations than look into the darkness. It’s something I’ve struggled with for decades.

All this is by way of me pointing out that focusing only on joyous music in Advent doesn’t really speak to everyone. So here’s something for those of us who are not finding the runup to Christmas entirely felicitous. I think it's timely for Advent 2 and the theme of Peace.

It should come as no surprise that “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” was written in 1943 (first recorded by Bing Crosby). Its lyrics encapsulate the longing of every soldier on every side in every war for the past millennium to be with family and friends for the quintessential family-and-friends holiday. Its wistful melancholy contrasts sharply with the upbeat tone of the piece my parents used to play, “Home for the Holidays”. In the latter, regardless of the Atlantic to Pacific traffic, people will make it home. In the former—not so much.

Josh Groban’s cover of “I’ll Be Home” is some years old, but we still have troops in harm’s way in both Iraq and Afghanistan—and now on our own bloody southern border. Peace is something these men and women understand profoundly. They will not be home for Christmas—so let’s have Groban.

I’ve always felt an affinity for this song; I think it’s because—for at least two decades—I’ve not been able to figure out where home is.