wrap it up

lileks, on presents:

I understand why my father wanted to spend time between presents, savoring the warm glow of gratitude and pleasure before it was extinguished by curiosity, and the next box was ripped open.

I should note that we didn’t rip. We opened carefully. My mother saved the paper, ironed it, reused it; she also saved boxes. If you ripped brand-new perfect paper you could see a hint of pain behind her smile, and in retrospect I don’t know why we just didn’t go outside, find a dry patch of sidewalk and step repeatedly on a crack.

mom occasionally saved boxes, but rarely saved used wrapping paper. her mom was more likely to save boxes & cards; i don't remember dad's mom saving anything but the cards. seems like they all saved the bows though...

i also agree with his twitter entry that clarifies a vague feeling i had earlier this week:

The message behind "We Need a Little Christmas" is: forced rote gaiety will distract us from our looming sense of dread and depression.