It had been a long day, and an even more excruciatingly long weekend. It was the end of our annual pilgrimage to the mecca of popular culture and uber-materialism...Orlando, Florida-home of Disney World...need I say more?!
The sinfully mountainous pile of presents for our 3 year old neice had been reduced to a lesser, but still impressive mountain of wrapping paper that would soon be dispatched to a suburban landfill scented by the soon-to-arrive army of Christmas trees. The 20,000 calories of everything imagineable were slowly working their way through the machinery of my digestive tract, an my mind was searching for a home.
But I digress! The six hundred mile round trip car ride, force-fed holiday meals and anomic and dizzying hotel experience was finally behind us. As we pulled into the drieveway, a friend called and asked if we could attend the Shiva (Jewish Mourning Ceremony) of her husband's mother. We quickly changed our clothes from red and green to black, and headed south. But not before stopping at Target to buy a gift card for our next-door neighbors, whose aunt lay dying in the hospital across the street.
And finally, I will get to the title of this posting. On the way into the mall, our 13 year old daughter innocently asked, "why do so many people come to the mall on the day after Christmas." I will spare you the sardonic and vitriolic rant I proffered. Just as her eyes rolled back in her head, I spotted a gift card that I have posted (and edited) for this blog. It was actually a gift card for a local Tex-Mex grill..but I found the message inescapable.
Instant Happiness! In affordable denominations.
That is what drove people to Disney, us to our family gathering, our three year old neice to her Christmas tree(s), and me to pen these words. Instant happiness; the promise of reprieve from the unavoidable existential realities that surrounded my own weekend experience and hover over our lives. These include the fact that my parents who on that very day, celebrated their 74th anniversary and the guarantee that there would be few remaining; the loss of our friend's beloved mother; our now 18 year old, adult-in-his-own-mind son's plan to move a thousand miles away to chase an Internet-based promise of love and liberation, and oh yes, my commencement of medication for high blood pressure. It was a perfect storm of irony, serendipity and opportunity.
I will probably travel back to the mall tomorrow to redeem my gift card, and once I begin to breath again, count my blessings.
