A Santa in the window - rituals and holiday memories #12

 

There’s an old retail mannequin that gets dressed up as Santa every year, standing in the corner of my folks’ living room. To some people, he might look a little odd. To me, he feels like home.

We’re a retail family. Window displays, mannequins, seasonal resets, the quiet choreography of making spaces feel welcoming, it’s in my bones. That Santa isn’t kitsch or novelty; he’s lineage. He represents long days and late nights, creativity under fluorescent lights, and the pride of making something feel special for strangers you’ll never meet.

My dad worked for JCPenney. My mom worked at Nordstrom, Macy’s, Famous Barr, Wendlands & Co. in Bay City, MI, and sold Home Interiors. I worked for Starbucks, The Epicurean, and Penney’s back in the day as well. Presentation was never just about selling things; it was about care. About how a room feels when you walk into it. About creating a moment. That instinct lives on in my family’s home, and I have carried that ethos into my work as an event producer and community manager in tech, producing creative programs and experiences for others for the bulk of my career.

What makes the mannequin Santa even more special is this: my parents put him up every year, and the scene by the Christmas tree is the photo background for holiday visitors. This ritual belongs to my parents. They’re still creating the holiday, still deciding where things go, still making the room feel festive and familiar. That feels like a gift I don’t want to rush past. I feel fortunate they’re still here and still shaping the season the way they always have. And I know that won’t always be as the years go by. The mannequin Santa has seen many holidays come and go. Each year, he reminds me that this version of us, this room, this tree, this moment isn’t permanent. It’s precious.

I recently watched the holiday movie, Oh What Fun with Michelle Pfeiffer, and it struck a chord. Beneath the twinkle lights and traditions is a truth we don’t always name: the holidays take work. A lot of it. Planning, shopping, wrapping, cooking, decorating, coordinating, holding emotions, holding space. As someone who has a degree in theatre and also deals in events, the push of getting to “the event” is a massive part of the event; you marvel at what you have created, and then it is over and gone. There is the creation, and then the ‘close down’ - there is an utter impermanence of these moments, events, holidays that is tangible. Yet we carry the memories and stories of events, moments, and holidays with us, and those are what make a life complete and chock-full of stories.

The holidays can be wonderful and are complicated all at once. They magnify joy, and they magnify absence. For some, this season is full of light and laughter. For others, it’s grief, loneliness, financial stress, or memories that sit heavy in the chest. Often, it’s all of those things at the same time. Over time, I hear a voice in my head reminding me that more than one thing is true, more days than naught.

That’s why self-care matters right now, even when it feels indulgent or unnecessary. Especially then. Self-care doesn’t have to be a spa day or a perfect routine. Sometimes it’s stepping outside for air and being cozy and quiet, making the journey to and from work or to someone’s home in the cold and the dark. Sometimes it’s saying no. Sometimes it’s letting a moment be precisely what it is, for you and you alone.

The mannequin Santa stands there, steady and familiar, and yet a reminder that holidays don’t have to be perfect to be meaningful. If you’re lucky enough to have your people still, notice that luck. If you’re missing someone, honor that too, grief is a sneaky sucker and it presents in a multitude of ways – smells, songs, words, random questions from strangers, on this day posts from a social media account. The jolly elf sometimes needs to be turned down to “off”. And if you’re tired, rest. (for some, that is hard for a myriad of reasons). If you don’t “feel like it”, that too should be honored.

Let’s be honest. Santa gets a lot of the credit. When you look around during the holidays, it’s hard to miss his face on everything from mugs to sweaters, and of course, that mannequin Santa in the living room. He’s the icon, the legend, the jolly guy who supposedly makes the magic happen. But behind every present, every perfectly wrapped gift, every twinkling light strung just so, there’s a Mom (and many Dads), grandparents, aunties, best friends, volunteers, the whole behind-the-scenes crew. doing the actual work. Both of my parents have always put in so much to make the holidays festive and fun. The truth is, the holidays hinge on the loving labor, organization, and creativity of those who rarely get their own song or parade. Santa swoops in for the glory, but it’s the folks like my parents, who set the scene, pick out the gifts, and keep the traditions alive—who make the season truly special.

So while Santa may collect high-fives and cookies, it’s worth pausing to recognize the real holiday heroes—especially the unsung labor of moms (see Oh What Fun), who fold in the magic, year after year, with a smile and stamina that rarely get the spotlight. The holidays are a team effort, and the credit belongs to all who make the memories, not just the man in the red suit.

Shout out to the people who make the holidays happen, especially the ones doing the quiet, behind-the-scenes work, even when it is hard.

A thank-you in any format is always appreciated by those who create memorable moments in your life, and it feels good to spread THAT kind of joy when the world is noisy with the opposite.

Gratitude and empathy are what make the world go round, and they are my number one gifts for every season. Share kindness and empathy generously. Thank you both, Mom & Dad, for your care and work around the holidays and always, and thank you, everyone, in my life who shows up; it is genuinely appreciated.

We get a finite number of days. If it makes you happy to dress up a mannequin with a Santa suit for the holiday, do it. Or any of the other things that make you happy, calm, or content.

Happy Holidays!

Empathy makes us human; actions make us warriors.