David and I were out window shopping the other day when we walked into one of the stores we go into all the time and were hit smack dab in the face with Christmas decorations already being put out. And I’m not talking about a little corner display or a few random items sitting off to the side. I’m talking full sections of Christmas in June like it was completely normal, like summer didn’t even exist.
I honestly stopped walking for a second because I was not expecting that at all. I wasn’t in a holiday mindset, I wasn’t thinking about decorating, and I definitely wasn’t thinking about Christmas this early. But there it was anyway, just sitting there staring at me like I was the one behind.
Now anybody who knows me knows that I’m very set in my ways when it comes to Christmas. It does not start early in our house. Christmas doesn’t start until after Charlie’s birthday on December 16th. That’s the rule now. Back when Suzanne was little it was always the day after Thanksgiving, no exceptions, no shortcuts, no “just a little early decorating.” Thanksgiving always had its moment first, and that was just how I kept it. One holiday at a time and that is how it is with my sister as well.
So seeing Christmas decorations in June already had me shaking my head, because in my mind it just doesn’t belong there yet. Summer is still happening. Life is still happening. There’s no reason for it to already be taking over half the store. Christmas in July which Hallmark is advertising is stupid. I bet you SANTA is shaking his head and saying what in the world is going on because he needs July to be ready for Christmas.
But here’s the thing about nostalgic holiday aisles, they don’t care what your rules are. They don’t care what month it is. They just pull you in whether you want them to or not. Because I started looking. And once I started looking, that was it. That is what advertisers want because it allows them to make extra money.
Even though I didn’t want to I found myself pointing things out and saying things like “oh I need that,” and “look at this one,” and “we should get this for so and so,” like I had completely forgotten I don’t even decorate until December. In my head I had already started changing everything. Old decorations suddenly didn’t feel right anymore, new ideas started popping up, and I was mentally redesigning Christmas like I had unlimited money and space to redo everything from scratch.
Meanwhile, David is just standing there beside me doing what he always does in these moments, which is quietly watching me and shaking his head like he already knows exactly where this is going. And finally I hear it, that familiar line he always says. “Oh no… not again.”
Because he knows me. He knows how this works. I start looking, then I start talking, then I start planning, and before long I’m acting like everything we already own needs to be replaced even though it was perfectly fine last year. Before you ask no, I didn’t purchase anything because money is tight and there are other things we need and the decorations we have are find.
Out the door we went because I had nothing set aside, nothing planned, nothing even remotely close to actual shopping. But that didn’t stop me from mentally filling up a cart anyway and deciding what I would do differently if I could just start fresh.
That’s what those aisles do to you. They don’t just show you decorations. They pull you straight into memories you weren’t even looking for. Because as much as I was standing there talking about ornaments and ribbon and wreaths, what I was really seeing wasn’t any of that.
I was seeing Suzanne and Charlie when they were little. I was remembering Christmas mornings, the excitement, the mess, the wrapping paper everywhere, the late nights getting everything ready, and all those little moments that didn’t feel big at the time but mean everything now.
That’s what hit me standing there in June looking at Christmas decorations. Not the items. The memories behind them. And I will say this too, because I know I’m not the only one, starting July 1st Hallmark turns into nothing but Christmas movies all month long. And for anyone who knows me, that drives me absolutely crazy.
I don’t want Christmas in July. I want July to be July. I want summer, cookouts, sunshine, and everything that comes with this season, not snowstorms and holiday romances when it’s 100 degrees outside. My sister feels the same way. We talk about it every year. It just doesn’t make sense to us.
Christmas belongs in December, not July. But even saying all of that, I still stood there longer than I meant to, just looking at everything, remembering everything, and letting it pull me back into moments I didn’t expect to revisit that day.
That’s the thing about nostalgic holiday aisles. You don’t plan on stopping. You don’t plan on remembering. And you definitely don’t plan on walking out mentally redesigning your entire Christmas setup in the middle of summer. But somehow, that’s exactly what happens anyway.
Do you celebrate Christmas in July or wait until December and why?
Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
