Big Papa and I decided to turn the volume down on Christmas 2010. It’s the first year since we’ve been together that we’re not putting up a Christmas tree and the second time we’ve put the kibosh on presents to each other, save a few small treats in each other’s stockings. Two years ago we enjoyed our first relatively present-free holiday.

When I say we “enjoyed” a present-free holiday, I truly mean it. I confess I love gifts, both receiving and giving. And, it’s fun to see a bunch of colorfully wrapped boxes peering out from under the tree. I was dubious about the concept of going without. That’s why I was pleasantly surprised that I got so much enjoyment from getting and giving so little – at least where material goods are concerned.

Big Papa and I fall into two camps. Whereas I get into the whole shop-and-find-just-the-right-thing-for-that-special-someone holiday spirit, Big Papa feels stressed out at the mere mention of shopping for gifts. It’s not that he isn’t a generous soul, he is. But what he’s not fond of is crowds, deadlines and the pressure that can be associated the perception that gifts fulfill someone else’s expectations for a happy holiday.

I get it, and I love him, so I wanted to give going gift-free a try. We did send presents to our relatives, but since they were souvenirs we’d picked up on our travels over the year, we didn’t need to venture out and face the shopping-crazy throngs.

What really astounded me was that when I too was freed from the “obligation” to search out, buy and wrap a sack-full of gifts, I was able to focus on other facets of the holiday which are more deeply satisfying and memorable than a cashmere sweater or new pair of earrings.

Sitting down to share a meal on Christmas Eve, sipping mimosas on Christmas morning, going for a mid-day walk, or simply not doing much of anything. I remember these moments more than anything I’ve opened on Christmas Day.

This year, I am grateful for a Christmas without crisis. Last year Big Papa and I spent Christmas Eve in the ER with my father who broke two bones in his leg that afternoon. The year before, during an uncharacteristically severe snowstorm, I had to find a hotel near the airport on Christmas Eve to guarantee I’d be able to fly out the morning after Christmas. My friend Dee had passed away five days before Christmas and I flew to her memorial in Maine. And, the year before that, we spent yet another Christmas Eve in the ER when my father fell and badly banged himself up.

I am also thankful that while we may be in the final stages of painting our living and dining rooms, our shower is hooked up, our kitchen has heat and most of our major appliances are where they should be. Last year at this time, we were finishing our remodel so the stove, fridge, and dishwasher were keeping company with our claw foot tub, all in our bedroom.

Once we become parents, I’m sure we’ll reinstate our tradition of heading to the snow-covered foothills of the Cascades to chop down our Christmas tree. We’ll set up the train track to run circles around its base and there will be presents to open on Christmas Day. Still, I hope we can keep it to a dull roar and teach our child that the true spirit of Christmas doesn’t lie underneath a fancy bow. The most meaningful gifts are those you unwrap in your heart.

Note: as this post goes to press, it turns out we will have a Christmas…er…ladder after all. Thanks to Big Papa’s good humor and ingenuity!