Why Do We Do It?

In light of the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School where 20 young children and 6 adults were murdered execution style, I, along with millions of others are attempting to understand how something like this can happen.  There is no simple one step way to fix it.  And, there already are heated arguments about what to do or not do.

In this season of 'magic', amid all the colored lights and tinsel and trappings, I ask myself, why do we do this?  Why do we subject ourselves to the stress and nonsense?  Why do we let ourselves be sucked into 'celebrating', now starting somewhere around when we hand out the last piece of Halloween candy?  Why does the Hallmark Channel broadcast the same sappy movies over and over again ad nauseam?  And, at the same time, I find myself watching some of them and find my eyes tearing up.  But I find it difficult to be in a celebratory mood when I think of these young innocent victims.

Some people celebrate the winter solstice.  Some celebrate Christmas in a very religious way while others celebrate it in a very non-religious way.  Some celebrate Hanukkah.  Others celebrate Kwanzaa.   And Festivus provides an alternative,  as a way to rebel against the pressures and commercialism which runs rampant.

So why do we do it?  I look at the plastic Santa with the bubble light that my father bought years ago.  I bring it out every December.  I've found myself trying to visualize him in a Woolworth's or Grant's maybe, picking it up and looking at it.  Maybe wondering whether or not to buy it.  And seeing him smiling as he may be thinking about how magical it will look to his three young children back in their flat on Oak Street.  And it was magical to us.  And to our children.  And probably will be to our grandchildren.  It serves as a reminder to us.

I can remember some (maybe it was only one?) Christmas mornings in that flat.  I remember my sister Linda writing my letter to Santa because I couldn't make the squiggle loops look like real writing.  I remember three puppets lined up under the tree in the corner:  Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse and Donald Duck.  I remember a brightly painted metal Ferris Wheel that I had wanted so badly.  I remember my brother Raymond, standing at the dining room table eating an orange.  We always got an orange in our stockings.  And I remember my father finding a lump of coal in his stocking.

It was an age of innocence and magic.  But it lasted way too short a time.  Before long we get swallowed up in the 'real world'.

The lyrics to The Illogical Song come to my mind:

When I was youngIt seemed that life was so wonderfulA miracle, oh it was beautiful, magicalAnd all the birds in the treesWell they'd be singing so happilyJoyfully, playfully watching me
But then they send me awayTo teach me how to be sensibleLogical, responsible, practicalAnd then they showed me a worldWhere I could be so dependableClinical, intellectual, cynical
There are times when all the world's asleepThe questions run too deep for such a simple manWon't you please, please tell me what we've learned?I know it sounds absurd but please tell me who I am
I say, "Now what would you say for they calling you a radicalLiberal, fanatical, criminal?"Won't you sign up your name? We'd like to feel you'reAcceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetableOh, ch-ch-check it out yeah
At night when all the world's asleepThe questions run so deep for such a simple manWon't you please, please tell me what we've learned?I know it sounds absurd but please tell me who I amWho I am, who I am, who I am

But it does come back.  When we see it once again, in the eyes of our children.  And now the cycle continues with another generation of family.  To Ruby and Baby Dos.  To magic and wonder.

So I'm hoping this post is a reminder of why we do it.  And to remember the innocence that was cut short in such a tragic and horrible way.  To the parents and families and friends and children, my heart goes out.  I cannot fathom the depth of grief to a parent when they have to say goodbye to a child.  Maybe for me this post is a way to overcome the melancholy I feel.  A remembrance to the children and a reminder of what was lost.  And I will continue to do it year after year.  To remember.