Charles van Heck's Woodhull Journal

The shops were holiday decorated in October. Then the ads flourished like Wild Parsnip. By mid-November, as if exposed to the weed’s sap, I had a severe skin reaction (photodermatitis) that worsened as the month waned. Black Friday. Cyber-Monday. Buy, buy, buy. The business news reports continuously remind us that, according to Forbes, holiday sales are expected to total between $1.61 and $1.62 billion this holiday season. This year, with AI introduced into marketing to create a warm consumer experience, it has been more challenging for retailers. But what exactly is, and what does the warm consumer experience mean?

These questions came to mind as I read the 28 November CBC News website post of a First Person article by Dana Kobernick, who resides in Montreal. She writes:

“The quiet realization that my yesterdays outnumber my tomorrows feels less like a threat and more like a gift. Aging, I’ve come to see, is a privilege. It doesn’t always feel like one because for me — whether grounded in reality or based on assumption — growing older is a process synonymous with decline, a gradual slowing of both mind and body.”

I am a member of what I refer to as “the invisible societal class.” Those of us who have paid our membership dues, which is similar to joining Sam’s Club or Amazon (and not really getting anything in return), appreciate the value of time. The gift of a day is precious to most, though for others it is burdensome, marked by loneliness and health issues, poverty, homelessness, and hunger.

There is an atmosphere of magic to Chanukah and Christmas, the Menorah candles and tree lights glowing in the long nights. The holiday parades and choirs singing. The aroma of pine trees, the gifts under the tree. The arrival of family and friends to share a meal― the communal experience. The holiday magic wanes as children grow and move off to create their own lives.

Aging has its advantages. When we turn off our cell phones, computers, and other distractions of consumerism, a clarity of life comes into focus. The gifts become “the other” rather than the “material item.” In other words, as we age, we gain a deeper perspective of both ourselves and others and can attune our lives to theirs. We can live inside each moment.

Kobernick writes about “the other,” her dear friend Natalie. Following a brief illness, Natalie died almost a year ago at the age of 57. Their friendship was one of enrichment. She writes:

“What cemented our bond went far beyond the many trips we took together, weekends at her cottage, the birth of her children, my unforgettable 50th birthday celebration in New York City and other life events. It was the quiet constancy: the unwavering presence we offered each other through life’s inevitable changes and challenges. Ours was — or is, I should say — a friendship built on trust, laughter and the kind of loyalty that asks nothing but gives everything.”

These words called to mind the gifts of friendship I received over the years. The word friendship is inadequate in some of those relationships. Brother and sister better defined the bond we shared, and for the few remaining sisters and brothers, continue to share.

On 7 December, the second candle of Advent will be lit. On the 15^th, the first candle of Chanukah will illuminate the night. These are reminders of our faith and hope of redemption. The candles are symbolic of the fact that we, by virtue of our humanity, are the candles that are (should be) lit to shine in the darkness. We are gifts to one another, including strangers in need, not just in the holiday season but throughout the unfolding days of the year.

Weekly, I have telephone conversations and emails that allow for the exchange of ideas, daily events, new perspectives, and laughter. Monthly, I receive a thoughtful, uplifting card in my mailbox (snail mail) from a dear friend and her husband. These I keep on my desk as reminders of what we carry forward together. The same is true, and applies to the monthly email letter from a friend updating me on her life, art, and activities with her husband. Her letters take me on walks through a physical landscape and provide insights into how to improve as an artist. Each of these people enriches my life.

Aging and sickness have taken a toll on me these past six years, with, as Kobernick writes, “The quiet realization that my yesterdays outnumber my tomorrows….” I am comfortable with that. Life, time is a privilege.

Time is a gift that we give others that we cannot get back. The holidays are about love, grace, and friendship. These are the days of reflection and renewal, the relighting of our candles to be carried forward, as Kobernick reminds us, to be a “nurturing presence” for others, regardless of our age. We are the gift to one another.

© 2025 Charles van Heck