This made-up holiday, Festivus, made its way into my heart at the height of my hysteria to get everything right at Christmas. Such pressure.
Such foolishness.
The only thing I need to get right about Christmas is the miracle of Christ’s birth. Everything else is gravy, or tinsel. Or both.
Festivus, in its own weird way, reminds me to chill out — Christmas is almost here, and it’s not about the tree, or the gifts, or the madness.
Well. A little madness. Family madness, feats of strength, good food. And expressions of gratitude mixed in with the airing of grievances.