Letter from the Editor #11
Season's Greetings; How to survive Lonely-Jew-on-Christmas Syndrome...
Readers,
Let me begin by wishing a merry Christmas to all who celebrate…a happy belated Chanukah to my fellow Jews…and an easy holiday season to those who find this time of year hard.
I hope that for at least a couple of days we’ll all get a break from the chaos of this crazy world. A little of that “Peace on Earth” they sing about. We need it!
How to survive Lonely-Jew-on-Christmas Syndrome
For years, I really struggled on this holiday. Until I celebrated my first Christmas with Brian in 2003, at 38, I was historically an emotional wreck on December 25th and the month leading up to it.
I felt left out—like Kyle Broflovski on South Park—and anxious about what to do with myself as most of the world shut down in observance of the holiday.
I had a serious case of Christmas envy. As a small child, I’d sit in front of the television, mesmerized by The Andy Williams Christmas Show, longing to be magically transported to wherever he was so that I could join him and all those kids in their Christmas sweaters caroling around the tree.
When I got a little older, I was introduced to the time-honored movies-and-Chinese-food tradition. It didn’t matter what movie you saw; the ritual was about keeping busy, distracting yourself from the awareness that a significant portion of the world’s population was enjoying the most festive holiday of all without you.
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Everyone else, it seemed, was enviably sipping egg nog (which I don’t even like), filling their bellies with Christmas cookies, and opening one whimsically-wrapped gift after another.
So many shiny presents! Twelve, as compared to the eight we got for Chanukah, most of which were more like stocking-stuffers—Silly Putty, a box of crayons, a coloring book—plus one big thing, like the Crissy and Baby Alive dolls I was out-of-my-mind excited to receive.
***
In the ‘90s, when I was in my 30s and living in the East Village, I switched things up a bit, inviting a bunch of fellow Jews over for Chinese food and arts-and-crafts. We’d babysit each other through the isolation, while drawing, painting, and collaging together. (Tucked away in a box in the garage I still have some of our artwork.)
There was one guy who especially needed the company. From the minute he arrived, he’d start spinning out about how isolated and excluded he felt. It added a tense energy to those gatherings, but it was validating knowing someone was even more freaked out by Christmas exclusion than I was. His anxious monologue was something of a welcome diversion from the too-silent night.
Then in the early aughts Brian came into my life. The first thing we ever purchased together was a Christmas tree from one of the vendors lining Avenue A. I was overcome with joy when we carried it up to his apartment and he took out his box of gleaming ornaments and tinsel so we could decorate it together. Like an excited 5-year-old, the first night our tree was up I insisted we sleep by the light of it, on an air mattress on the living room floor.
That year, for the first time of many, I attended Brian’s sister’s Feast of the Seven Fishes, and then a bigger family Christmas at another sister’s house. I can’t tell you what a thrill it was to take part, to feel included.
Years later, Covid introduced a new sort of tradition. Two Christmases in a row, we both caught the virus, forcing us to isolate from everyone else. Both times we made ourselves butternut squash risotto with scallops with ingredients procured through Instacart contactless delivery—our Feast of the One Fish.
A funny thing happened: while sick and housebound, I came to feel okay about not doing anything on the holiday. There was something about having no alternatives (or physical energy) that made me accept, and make peace with, just sitting still. I leaned into the quiet, and I discovered it was fine. Nice, actually. A revelation. Maybe Lonely-Jew-on-Christmas Syndrome was behind me. I no longer needed a river I could skate away on.
While laid up we watched It’s a Wonderful Life—somehow my first viewing. I loved it. We rewatched it our next Covid Christmas, along with Miracle on 34th Street, another movie I’d never seen.
***
In the past couple of years, we’ve devised a new tradition with some of my family: We meet up in Manhattan and rent cheap hotel rooms (rates are low on Christmas, but shhhh! don’t tell anyone because I don’t want to ruin it). We eat at some of the restaurants that stay open, walk around town doing touristy Christmas things, maybe catch a couple of Broadway matinees—this time, Marjorie Prime and Hell’s Kitchen.
It’s really true that the city never sleeps, not even on the world’s biggest holiday. It’s the perfect place for a bunch of non-observers to keep ourselves occupied, casually, joyfully taking part.
How had I not realized that when I lived there? Why had I needed to turn my tiny tenement into an artists’ refuge when there was so much else I could have been doing in the city on Christmas? I suppose anxiety puts blinders on you. Or maybe I was too invested in my identity as A Real New Yorker to deign to take part in touristy things. I have no idea what I was thinking.
We’re in the city right now having a sweet time in my happy place. It’s nice to have a new, festive ritual for this holiday that isn’t mine.
I realize now that no matter what I do—or don’t do—on Christmas, it’ll be okay. Maybe even great.
***
I’ll end this note the way I started it, wishing a merry Christmas to all who celebrate…a happy belated Chanukah to my fellow Jews…and an easy holiday season for those who find this time of year hard. 🎄🕎 ❤️🩹 - Sari
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Thank you Sari for wishing us all an Easy Xmas. We could All use that in this chaotic and egregiously cruel time.
But I fear your naming LJCS as a “disorder” rather than as a legitimate and time-honored cultural “practice”.
Next year we might find it listed in the DSM.😳
In fact, a formerly orthodox friend and I are sanctifying the practice today by going to an afternoon movie and bringing a bottle of scotch to our favorite Chinese restaurant.
Could anything be more perfect?🤷🏼♂️
Happy NYC adventuring! As a Jew who now celebrate both Chanukah and Christmas with my boyfriend’s family, I like that it’s more of a borrowed holiday than one I feel major obligations around, so I can enjoy the good parts.