This Christmas season bitters me deeply.
It took me years to say that I hated Christmas. I realize today that it’s not about that.
It’s the frivolity of this time of useless spending, excesses and consumption at all levels, the misuse of the atmosphere of fraternity by companies selling “love in packages”, the tiredness of paying for the lack of presence with presents, of satisfying children who have everything, of trying to please without being able to.
It’s the time to feel absent, to put up with obligatory attendance, to settle favors, to have no time for anything, to pretend to be well so as not to spoil other people’s Christmas, to give something to the poor so as not to appear selfish, to be everywhere there are Christmas parties, at company dinners, association dinners, parish dinners, at the kids’ school party, at the Sunday school snack. Eating too much, breaking the diet, overdoing it, and having to keep a happy face because you’re only in a bad mood after Christmas.
Easy and fast communication via social networks makes it even more difficult to survive the season. We are considered badly behaved if we don’t message everyone because we have a cell phone and accounts on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and WhatsApp. It’s also advisable to send a photo of the red sweater with the white reindeer or the blinking Christmas tree. And on Christmas Eve, pictures of the food and reels of the good times.
I’m not out of the equation. I’m committed to communication but do it all year round without exception. But no one considers Christmas outside the time limits we find ourselves. And that’s where my concern begins and ends. If I don’t say anything, many people won’t understand. If I had to tell everyone individually, I wouldn’t have been able to. And every year, I live in this anguish. In the context of the Portuguese language, the word anguish is used here in its literal sense.
Most of my friends are people I genuinely enjoy spending time with. The lightness of a photo of the Bethlehem crib with the words “Happy Holidays” doesn’t mean anything to me. Does it show that I remembered? It may not show anything. This time of year is a prodigal time for meaningless declarations of friendship, knowing that many people go to their contacts and take it in their stride so that no one gets offended. It is what it is!
The magic and freight end on the 26th. Then, it’s time to prepare for the big end-of-year party because reality will knock on the door again. When the lights come down and the presents are opened, all that’s left is what is true, for better or worse.
I know I’m not being “politically correct,” but I always like to put a space between me and my reality that allows me to reflect and go inside myself. And at this time of year, I always find things complicated.
I’ve had a lot of Christmases this summer and until recently. I’ve brought friends together, had lunches and dinners, given and received tight hugs.
I’m with family this year, including my sister and brother-in-law. I haven’t spent this time with them for many years. With my nephews, with whom I’ve never been in this Christmas mood before. With the magic of children, it’s different. We have a Christmas tree decorated by them. Today, we will talk about Jesus and the power of love.
And right now, my Christmas card can only be this: Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth to people of goodwill.

What else?

Gabriela Silva is a writer and cultural icon who resides on the island of Flores. Azores.

In Diário dos Açores, Osvaldo Cabral-director