Christmas

How my favorite Christmas movie mirrors 2020.

by Melissa Holderby on Dec 26, 2020 category Christmas

Our last blog post for the calendar year. I thought today we’d just have some fun together. Sound okay to you? Let’s have a relaxed romp through my favorite Christmas movie, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. It was originally released in the US in December 1989 by Warner Bros. when I was a sophomore in college. As I watched it for the umpteenth time this year, I saw a parallel I never had before. Because 2020 has been a year unlike any other. So, put on your Santa slippers, grab a piece of left-over pie and let’s explore how my favorite Christmas movie mirrors 2020.

I know some of you may be shaking your heads at me right now because my favorite holiday flick isn’t something more wholesome like It’s A Wonderful Life or Miracle On 34th Street. Don’t get me wrong – I like those, too. Yet, somehow, Christmas Vacation steals my heart every single December. Maybe it’s the goofy slapstick humor? Maybe it’s the relatability to members of my own family (mostly my in-laws)? Perhaps the soundtrack? Or quotable lines like this gem from Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase)? “Where do you think you’re going? Nobody’s leaving. Nobody’s walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We’re all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We’re gonna press on, and we’re gonna have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny-f***ing-Kaye.”

Regardless of the reasons, I love this movie. And viewing the characters as fractured pieces of 2020 helps me structure a mental framework around the chaos of the past year.

Cousin Eddie

On the lighter side of this year, my favorite Christmas movie mirrors 2020 through the character of Cousin Eddie (Randy Quaid). You know the guy. He is a mess of a man, a burning dumpster meme in the flesh. Eddie shows up uninvited, roots through our garbage and breaks our fragile stuff. Eddie is unintentionally obtrusive and crude – the cringe-worthy opposite of Clark’s dreams for a perfect old-fashioned family holiday. And he parks his dilapidated RV (“rolling tenement on wheels”) in our driveway with no plans to leave anytime soon.

Once I got this mental image of 2020 stuck in my head, I couldn’t unsee it. Painfully awkward 2020 gleefully standing outside my window, drinking a beer at 8:00am and emptying the RV’s septic tank into my storm sewer next to a pile of charred trash. “Merry Christmas! Shitter was full!”

Mr. Shirley

On the more serious side of things, my favorite Christmas movie also mirrors 2020 through the character of Frank Shirley (Brian Doyle-Murray). He is the no-nonsense CEO of the food additive company where Clark works. Mr. Shirley doesn’t view any of the employees as individuals, but as numbers on a spread sheet that all impact the bottom line. In fact, one of the movie’s running gags is that Mr. Shirley never gets Clark’s name right. (Carl instead of Clark. Greaseball instead of Griswold. And so on.) For most of the movie he is cold, joyless and impersonal. And he financially sucker punches Clark right in his bank account. Jelly of the Month Club, anyone?

How many of us have wanted to explode in an emotional tirade at some aspect (or aspects) of 2020? We feel angry at the injustices, the burdens and the losses. And justifiably so. I took the liberty of tweaking Clark’s rant about Mr. Shirley for 2020. Read it out loud to yourself and let some of that anger go. No reason to carry that into 2021. Seriously, go ahead. I’ll wait…

Feel a little better? At least a little amused, even temporarily? Good! Remember, laughter is therapeutic and it’s free.

Spoiler alert

At the end of the movie, the entire extended family goes outside to the front lawn when Eddie’s two young children believe they see Santa Claus in the distance. Clark tells them it is actually the Christmas Star and that he finally realizes what the holiday means to him. Of course, Uncle Lewis (William Hickey) corrects him that the light is actually coming from the local sewage treatment plant. This reminds Clark that Eddie had been dumping his RV sewage into the nearby storm drain. Unfortunately, before Clark can stop him, Uncle Lewis tosses a cigar match into the drain which ignites a small explosion.

The blast sends the family’s Santa and reindeer yard decorations soaring into the night sky. Aunt Bethany (Mae Questel) starts singing the US National Anthem and everyone joins in as the flaming decorations fly off into the distance. The entire family (including a repentant Mr. Shirley, his wife and the SWAT team) then celebrates inside what’s left of the Griswold’s house.

The End.

What I want to carry into 2021

Ah, Christmas movie magic. I wish 2020 could wrap up as sweetly as my movie. Oh, I know that isn’t the case. I understand that folks are grieving very real losses and that doesn’t magically end when the credits roll for this year. There is plenty of work yet to be done. I get it.

Still, I want to carry part of Christmas Vacation with me into 2021. Clark’s optimism. (“A lot of sap in here! Looks great. A little full. A lot of sap.”) Mr. Shirley’s repentance and humility. Aunt Bethany’s pure (albeit confused) sweetness. (“Grace??? She died thirty years ago!”) And Cousin Eddie’s… um… well… let’s say his authenticity.

But mostly, I want to carry laughter with me into next year. A whole rusted out RV full of laughter. Because I have no doubt that at multiple points in 2021, I will find myself facing very real struggles. And I will need my sense of (slapstick) humor.

So, here’s to YOU in 2021. May your lime jello never come topped with cat food. May your house never have a wild squirrel inside. And may your shitter never get too full.

Stay encouraged.

Love, Melissa

Tagging you in our joy-filled holiday.

by Melissa Holderby on Dec 20, 2020 category Christmas

Today is all about tagging you in our joy-filled holiday. But, let’s be clear. The term “tag” has changed over the five decades of my life, and I want to be sure we are all on the same page.

For example, my earliest connection to “tag” was a playground game as a child. If you tagged someone, that meant you touched them in a game of chase, rendering them “it”. Then much later in my life in college, my anatomy professor “tagged” body parts on the anatomy lab cadavers for our tests and exams. Relax, no human anatomy exams (or actual cadavers) included today. More recently, we’ve gotten accustomed to “tagging” our friends and family in social media posts.

We’re not referring to any of those kinds of “tags” this time. No, we’re talking about gift tags. Like the kind you include on a wrapped package to indicate to whom (and from whom) the gift was intended. So, we’d like to tell you about a holiday gift that sat untouched and (almost) forgotten in our basement for four years.

We are tagging this post, “To our readers, with love from the thankful bee”.

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I signed the last gift tag, secured it to the wrapped box and placed the package under the tree. That gift was especially meaningful. Not because of the contents or the cost or the uniqueness. That gift was special because we had bought it four years prior for a boy or girl we had yet to meet. The toy sat in our basement for four Decembers. Never wrapped. Never opened. But this December was different. This Christmas Eve night that gift sat under our tree, wrapped in Santa paper and ready for the next morning. A fulfilled promise with a red and green bow.

the front said “Joy”

The front of the gift tag said “Joy”, and that’s what I was learning to hold on to despite our circumstances in that moment. You see, the last few months of 2018 had hit our family especially hard. We faced unforeseen obstacles to Luke’s adoption finalization, and fear came calling. Allan was unceremoniously laid off from his job of twenty-five years without warning, and fear came calling. Shortly afterward my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, and guess what? Fear was still knocking loudly at my door.

Our roller coaster since September had beaten me down, but I was clinging onto Christmas. Oh, not the decorations or the wrapping or the cookies (although I do LOVE the holiday cookies). I was clinging onto the Christmas baby. You know the One. Little guy wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Because of the promises of that baby, I knew that my fear had to stay outside on the porch, and I could still find joy in small things every day. That’s what Christmas promises. Hope for a hurting world.

the back said “Luke”

The back of the JOY gift tag read, “To Luke, from Mommy and Daddy”. Life is crazy. One minute we were preparing to give up our nearly five-year adoption wait, and the next minute we took a phone call about a baby boy in California. God had been working out that miracle the entire time. We just couldn’t see it.

God showed up HUGE for all of us – Luke, his birth mom Nadine, Allan and me. And God continued to look out for our family. The new year brought a new job for Allan, the right cancer doctors for my mom, and progress toward Luke’s adoption finalization in the California courts.

our gift tag for you

So, this December we are tagging YOU in our joy-filled holiday. Fear still likes to prowl around on our front porch, especially in 2020. Goodness, gracious. Can I get an “AMEN”? But we are focusing on the hope of Christmas. The light breaking through the darkness. The joy in the small things.

We hope the thankful bee has been an encouragement to you in 2020, and we’re excited about the year to come.

May you always see your blessings more clearly than your struggles. May you always have exactly what you need, if not everything you want. And may you always sense your worth. You are precious and so very loved. In fact, you are absolutely worth dying for, according to the King and Author of Creation. His perfect love drives out fear. Receive it. Embrace it. And be encouraged.

Merry Christmas, friends!

Love, Melissa

Adapted from original 12/24/2018 Facebook post.

Two newlyweds and a stupid holiday ornament.

by Melissa Holderby on Dec 13, 2020 category Christmas, marriage

How can two newlyweds and a stupid holiday ornament tell a story? Well, several of you have asked to be introduced, so please meet the infamous “stupid, ugly holiday pizza guy ornament” mentioned in last weekend’s post: Ornament Placement Disorder Ruined A Holiday Tradition. Here he is – Pontius Pizza, the Christmas Guy. And here is his backstory.

When Allan and I were first married and living in Bakersfield, California (MANY Christmases ago), this ugly thing came with our pizza one night as a marketing promotion. Allan insisted on hanging it on our scrubby little Christmas tree in our apartment. I equally insisted on the opposite, arguing that corporate pizza chain mascots have nothing to do with the meaning of the holiday.

Allan retorted that “Pontius Pizza” was a main character in the Christmas Story. (No, uninformed new husband…. King Herod is part of Christmas. Pontius Pilate is part of EASTER!) That’s when it got ridiculous between two stubborn, immature newly wed kids. It was more important for each of us to be right than to be kind to each other. Ever have a moment like that?

Pontius Pizza, the Christmas Guy

Over the years, “Pontius Pizza, the Christmas Guy” has grown on me. Since that first Christmas together, he has been promoted from the bottom of the ornament box, to the back of the tree, to front and center. Similarly, Allan and I have worked to grow our marriage to front and center as well. Some days that feels easy. Other days that feels… well… like hard work. Because we are two broken humans who often still fall into the trap of being stubborn and immature. Don’t get me wrong – I still like to be “right” (and usually am), but I generally won’t fight to the death anymore in the process.

Someday when I am another widow in a nursing home (MANY Christmases from now), I hope my kids hang Pontius Pizza in my room every December. He makes me smile at how far two newlyweds and a stupid holiday ornament have come. The extra effort is worth it. Even on the hard days.

Adapted from original 12/10/17 Facebook post.

Header image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay.

Ornament Placement Disorder ruined a holiday tradition.

by Melissa Holderby on Dec 5, 2020 category Christmas

Below is a letter I wrote to myself a few years ago. In other words, “Melissa of Christmas PRESENT” penned some words to “Melissa of Christmas PAST”. You see, I needed some of my own advice before OPD (Ornament Placement Disorder) ruined another holiday tradition in our home. Maybe your family can relate?

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Dear Melissa of Christmas Past,

Listen, girl. I have seen our future holidays and the scene isn’t good. We are going to be one lonely holiday decorator if we don’t get a grip.

ornament placement disorder

STOP being all crazy uptight about how the ornaments look on the Christmas tree. Let your husband and your kids put the dang ornaments where ever it pleases them and stop micromanaging the arrangement. Yes, it is more pleasing to the eye for things to be evenly spaced. And I totally agree that it makes more sense for Mary to hang next to Baby Jesus instead of where your kids keep putting her. I am also well aware that you hate that stupid, ugly pizza guy ornament that your husband insists on hanging dead center, but seriously. WHO CARES???

As a result of our Ornament Placement Disorder, you will rearrange everyone’s work after they go to bed and only teach them not to enjoy holiday tree decorating with you. Melissa of Christmas Past, please hear me. You are sucking all the joy out of trimming the tree, sweetie. So now I am stuck fluffing this dumb artificial tree by myself very year. Get a hold of yourself, for the sake of all that is merry and bright!

stupid pizza guy

And by the way… the stupid pizza guy ornament? Yeah, the one that you try to hide in the bottom of the ornament box every year? Turns out we actually love that ornament now. It has great sentimental value to us, and we hang it in front on the center branch. Right where it should be. Ironic and unexpected, I know.

Take a deep breath and exhale. Try to be more gentle with yourself. More patient. More forgiving. You know, we really are doing a good job despite what we sometimes believe.

Love, Melissa of Christmas Present

Image by Thanks for your Like • donations welcome from Pixabay.

Searching for hope in our weary world.

by Melissa Holderby on Nov 28, 2020 category Christmas, special needs

I have to be up front and honest with you. I haven’t posted to the blog in a few weeks because I haven’t been able to write a single word. Not one syllable. A small part of that problem has been simply logistics with my own lack of time and energy. The bigger part, however, has been what some may call “writer’s block”. I would actually call it “fear that I don’t have adequate words”. You see, I started the thankful bee primarily to serve as a light of encouragement to folks who may be troubled or hurting. And frankly, I haven’t even been able to encourage MYSELF lately, let alone any of you. I certainly haven’t felt qualified to guide anyone searching for hope in our weary world. So, I haven’t written any new content recently. Until tonight.

The Christmas Cave

Tonight I took all three of my kids to The Christmas Cave, about two hours south-east from where we live. It’s basically a self-guided holiday light display in the passageways of an underground white gravel mine. Inside among the twinkling lights, decorated Christmas trees and pillar candles lining the dimly-lit path are displays depicting the historical moments surrounding the birth of Jesus. For added atmosphere, holiday music is featured in each area.

I wanted to be in the moment. Truly, I did. I wanted to just relax and enjoy being out with all three of my kids for the first time in a long time. Except I honestly wasn’t. Nope. I was preoccupied with everything weighing on my heart. Burdens with names like “overdue” and “overdrawn”. “Quarantine.” “Loneliness.” “Worry.” Maybe you are acquainted with some of those as well?

Squeaks and stumbles.

One thing that really struck me hard as I walked along that underground gravel path was Luke‘s reaction to the whole event. He was so excited to see the Christmas decorations, and the way the candlelight on the cave walls made our shadows look ten feet tall. He was especially drawn to the lights on the garlands and trees. Luke desperately wanted to walk the entire mile-long trail, his little chilly hand in mine, pointing and making happy squeaks. It didn’t matter to him that his pace was so slow or that he stumbled in the gravel. No, he just wanted to absorb it all.

But Luke’s squeaks and his stumbles were a painful reminder to me that my sweet, joyful little boy has extra struggles to overcome. In the dark of that underground mine, I felt a familiar sting in my heart. A hurt that despite all of my education as a pediatric therapist, and all of the professional help we consume each week, and all of the resources I have scoured, Luke still struggles. He still doesn’t speak. And he still doesn’t walk without falling. And the road ahead of him seems to stretch way out over the horizon where I can’t clearly see his triumphant victory over his earthly disability.

What a contrast Luke and I were in that moment in the Christmas Cave. Each of us putting one foot in front of another to travel along our candle-lit journey. Except my heart was troubled, and his heart was wide with wonder.

And then it happened.

O, Holy Night.

We got to the part of the path with the scene depicting immediately after Jesus’ birth. I pointed out baby Jesus to my baby Luke, and do you know what Luke did? He waved. My squeaking, stumbling little boy waved to baby Jesus.

Oh my goodness, friends, I got tears in my eyes. And I became acutely aware of the familiar Christmas carol playing in the cave at this moment – O, Holy Night. The line from the song goes, “A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices…”

Yes! I am weary, inside and out! All those burdens I called by name earlier? They recently have worn me clear down to a nub. In fact, the entire planet seems to be searching for hope in our weary world.

A thrill of hope.

God broke through my darkness in that underground gravel mine. And He wants to break through your darkness, too. So, He sent a baby. A very special baby. Born in a cave. So that I can have hope. YOU can have hope. The entire weary world can have hope.

And even with the loud clamoring of all of my worries, I can rejoice. I can celebrate my future even if I can’t see it. Luke’s future. The world’s future.

So you see, tonight I got a tender reminder. Tonight I was gently reminded that I don’t have to know all the answers. I don’t have to have a battle plan thoroughly worked out. And I don’t even have to have adequate words. And neither do you. Perhaps all we need is one small flicker of LIGHT in our darkness. One tiny speck of HOPE in our corner.

Keep walking along your gravel path, friend. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, even on the days you feel weary. If all you can manage is a squeak and a stumble, do it. We aren’t meant to languish, searching for hope in our weary world. HOPE has come. HOPE is here.

Sprinkles of encouragement for December.

by Melissa Holderby on Nov 27, 2019 category Christmas, Our adoption journey

We are busily preparing some sprinkles of encouragement for you for December. Think of it as our plate of homemade holiday cookies to you. Let’s start off with our recipe (plan) for doing that. I like to know what’s coming next, don’t you?

Every December is typically chock full of extra things on our calendars. Holiday parties. Shopping. Baking. School events. Relatives we rarely see. Increased volunteering opportunities. Making our lists and checking them twice.

All positive things for us, hopefully. Sometimes not. December can also mean squeezed budgets. Too much sugar. Too little sleep. Increased end of the year demands at work. Separation from loved ones. Loneliness.

Good, bad or neutral, this last month of the calendar year still often means extra pressure. So, we thought we’d open up part of our family’s story to you that many have never seen or heard. In other words, we want to offer you some sprinkles of encouragement in December.

six sprinkles

Our youngest son – Luke – joined our family through open adoption. When he was born in California, we dropped everything and went. He came as a sweet surprise after a very long wait. A four and a half year wait to be exact. When the sudden phone call came announcing our adoption placement match with Luke, I almost sprinted the 2,300 road miles to get to him. However, Allan wisely suggested we take a plane. Turns out the distance by air is only 1,988 miles. So, I guess Allan had the more reasonable reaction.

Speaking of air travel, gate B17 at our outbound airport held a very meaningful surprise, which we will tell you about in this series. Stay tuned for sprinkle #4 on December 16th titled, “the sparrow and the surfer dude“. It’s probably my favorite sprinkle of all.

I wrote six email updates home from Sacramento covering the ten days we were in California. Those emails cover some wildly miraculous events. And I do mean WILD. We will share those with you publicly throughout the next month beginning this coming Sunday. Six emails means six December blog posts. In other words, six “sprinkled cookies” of encouragement from us to you. Our first cookie comes out of the oven on December 1st. We hope you enjoy it and the sweetness that follows!

All of us here at the thankful bee sincerely wish you hope, joy and humor this holiday season. Be encouraged!

Featured image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay.