Because we need it

It’s been described as the most wonderful time of the year — though a lot of people, not all of them The Grinch, would sour at the thought. Try most stressful, they’d sulk.

Think traffic, the gridlock that melts patience, goodwill and the ice cream cake bound for the Christmas party.

More blessed to give? But oh, the pressure of recalling names, ages, even the gender of babies placed on your arms so long ago. Will they come? How many? Will one be able to remember their names or faces?

What about dashed expectations, as when taxes take a hungry bite out of the bonus and 13th month pay, hardly leaving enough for a round with the barkada or the extended clan?

The cooking, gift-wrapping, the calls to make, reservations to place, and all the little details that go into that grand family reunion. Bah,humbug!

With everything on fast forward as people cram projects, deadlines, yearend reviews and planning sessions before everyone takes off for that requisite Christmas break, one wonders why everything has to be packed into that single day that the whole world has conspired to mark as The One.

What happens should one decide to boycott Christmas, decide to sleep off the day instead, turn their phone off and trek to worlds unknown where there are no Christmas carols, no blinking holiday lights, no giant Christmas trees or Santa holding fort at the mall?

With so many holidays in a year, can we do with one less, this one perhaps? It may be the most heralded and the most anticipated, but among the harried, the impatient and the plain skeptical, it’s also the most dreaded holiday of all.

Do we really need it? And what for?

Well, first of all, let’s admit it — because Christmas bonus and 13th month pay. That extra money goes a long way these days toward easing somewhat our perennially constricted everyday lives.

Because themed office parties — no matter how silly one looks in Hello Kitty pajamas, the bunny hat, the itchy grass skirt.

Because life is too dreary not to have that one day in the year when people brim with goodwill, when minor lapses, traffic violations, fashion mishaps and forgotten dates are graciously forgiven. Just because it’s Christmas.

On that one day in the year, strangers heartily dispense holiday greetings and children’s normally annoying importunings become suddenly endearing. Yes, because it’s Christmas.

Because we all need a break — from the grim headlines of drug killings, the shameless greed of politicians, the news of yet more migrants drowned at sea, or families torn apart at hostile ports. It’s a respite we all can use — to realize how much we have, and reconnect with our common humanity.

Because we can only have so much of randomness, that unpredictable turn when things go awry and we are left at a loss: What happens next? What now?

Christmas, that annual orgy on the 25th day of the 12th month, is a bedrock of certainty. As sunset comes at the close of day, so does Christmas no matter the weather, the general mood of the hour, the politics, the color of one’s hair, the time zone one occupies.

It is the one day when people can predict the next 24 hours — from the first hour when they trudge to Mass (or don’t, in the case of others) to the next when everything becomes a dizzying round of wine, gifting and song. When family becomes once more the center of everyone’s life, never mind the tactless Tita remarks on one’s lingering singlehood and double weight.

Because we can all use that giddy sense of anticipation, that mounting excitement as the months march on, sedately at first, before breaking into a brisk walk, a gallop, then a sprint once the ’ber months hit.

The countdown begins — 100 days before Christmas, 90, 80, 50, the TV hosts announce grandly as they wrap up the news broadcast. The air becomes nippy, and we start imagining the heady smell of good old ham lashed with burnt sugar and the warm pan de sal it is paired with.

Once the All Saints’ and All Souls’ break is over, it is time to dust off the Christmas tree. Because as sure as Scrooge would sulk at the season, the streets would soon be decked with all manner of holiday trimmings. And we’d succumb.

Because — why not? It’s cheesy but it’s also true: Christmas Eve — the culmination of all these special days of madness and conviviality and froth and friskiness — is “the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we smile a little easier, we cheer a little more,” said the fictional character Frank Cross in the movie “Scrooged.”

“For a couple of hours out of the whole year, we are the the people that we always hoped we would be.”

If only those blessed couple of hours could extend to days, weeks, years — to our lifetimes. Merry Christmas!