Jam of the week: “Golden Arrow” by Darkside

Time sure flies when you’re not writing columns. I’ve been away from the fourth page for a couple weeks busy with stories and the many other facets of my job. Of course, I’ve been keeping busy outside of work as I’m sure many of you have as you have as you make final preparations for the Christmas holiday.

Fortunately, I’ve managed to get through all my Amazon and Etsy orders, most of which I’m confident will arrive in time to hastily wrap them and toss them at my loved ones. It’s a small achievement in the Krajewski household to have all your gifts ready by Christmas.

It’s less about the achievement and more about the superiority you feel over your sibling when she gives you a printed piece of paper with an image of the gift that still in the mail. The gift image is always accompanied with a sort of knowingly defeated, cheeky frown. Google “Anthony Weiner Frown” and you’ll kind of know what I’m talking about.

Little memories like that are what I keep in the back of my mind when I’m rushing to get everything done for holiday travel as the week draws to an end. I close my eyes and think about drinking eggnog near a fire when I clean out my car in freezing temperatures. I remember fighting my sister to “be Santa” and hand out Christmas presents when I’m eating canned pasta, again, for dinner after breaking my wallet for gifts. I recall my sister and I debating over who got the stocking with Santa on it and who got the one with the snowman on it, because obviously you want the Santa one.

Yeah, pretty much all of my holiday memories are about fighting with my sister. That’s an odd mid-column realization to have. I’d get a therapist if I didn’t have all of you wonderful readers here to judge me.

Thankfully, most people can relate to the stress the holiday brings. Enough people do that they’re planning a Christmas service for it in Webster City that I wrote about in today’s paper. As much as I love the destination of the holiday, it’s tough getting there.

I’m already sick of driving to my parent’s house after hearing that there might be a storm coming through on Thursday night. There are going to be a pile of things for me to do at the office when I get back. I’ve taken more than one step back and wondered if all this trouble was worth it for the longest vacation time I have all year.

I always return to those memories though. Those childhood memories of Christmastimes that were perfect because, as a child, I had no stress to hold me down. For brief moments each Christmas, I find those moments again. Sure, my Christmas vacation won’t be perfect. It’ll be riddled with the holes of life and far from those childhood memories. Still, by the time I get to my parent’s house, kick off my snowcaked shoes and actually find a chance to enjoy Christmas music, it’ll be perfect.

It becomes perfect when you accept it for what it is.