My grandfather was a curmudgeon, especially this time of year. He would start to get grumpy mid-November, when Christmas lights started going up around town and his mood would really sour after Thanksgiving when retailers began blasting Christmas carols. Then a simple trip to the grocery store would send him muttering angrily under his breath up and down the aisles and then all the way home. His mood wouldn’t improve until February when the last decorations were finally packed away.
I never fully understood what exactly my grandfather had against Christmas, but I somehow unconsciously adopted some of his feelings. For a long time, Christmas music at the mall or at grocery stores would put me on edge. Christmas lights made me think about climate change. And if anyone wished me a Merry Christmas, I would rush to explain I don’t celebrate but that I hope they had a good holiday season.
But then something shifted.
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