The base of the Christmas tree looks a bit depleted in an empty nest. A white envelope. A couple of token efforts. Something from someone, but not for us. There’s a temptation to wrap up some empty boxes, like a shop window, for appearances’ sake.
When do you outgrow Christmas presents? We decided that this year it’s us. There’s no lack of love, and there will be parties and lunches. There’s just a recognition that you don’t have to obey social conditioning, especially when you’ve reached an age when Christmas seems to come around every six months. And in December, when you’re exhausted by everything, you can go easy and not load each other up with some week-long search-and-buy mission.
Illustration: Dionne Gain Credit:
But it’s the thought that counts! I remember my grandmother replying, “Well, here’s a nice thought for you.” (She was tricking; she then gave us a present.)
Thing is, the thought that counts can hit you at any time of year. In October, I thought of something my brother would like, and got it for him. Only, I had to wait until Christmas to give it to him because then it would save me from trying to have another thought and possibly drawing a blank, leading to stress, anxiety, a panic purchase and an apology: “But remember what I got you in October?”
Australians will spend $425 per person on Christmas presents, according to the Australian Retailers’ Association. That’s $11.8 billion, in increase of $1.6 billion on last year. We have a strange way of expressing our cost-of-living crisis. Spend our way out of it? A treat to make up for a year of scrimping?
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If we put it aside, that $11.8 billion could buy us one-third of a nuclear submarine, or perhaps one-13th by the time they’re done. Or pay every Australian household’s electricity bill, or every nurse or teacher, for a quarter. It could run the Medical Research Future Fund and every MRI and nuclear medicine imaging machine in the country for a year, the entirety of the federal environment, energy, water and climate change departments, with more than enough left over to run the ABC and SBS. Or, if you’re that way inclined, it would buy one-32nd of a nuclear energy plan (best-case scenario), delivered when the planet has already cooked. Maybe keep it and spend it on Christmas.
It was floated, a couple of years ago, that our family donate our Christmas gift spending to charity. This idea was vetoed by one family member, who, without giving too much away, was my mum. Mum also opposed a Kris Kringle arrangement, which the in-laws do. Mum is still wedded to the joy of gift-giving, and I get that. Christmas would not be the same without everyone carefully peeling stickytape from expensive paper so that it can be re-used, and it is important to maintain the custom of children opening their presents on December 25, even if the children now qualify for a seniors card. There’s a lot to be said for tradition.
Except that for Mum, the sound of December is now cicadas and the pained groan of “What am I going to get you?” And then, because it’s so much inconvenience for her, it’s your job to find it, get it, wrap it, and negotiate an online bank transfer. You might as well also sign a card to yourself, with lots of love.