Project Pumpkin Bread
I suppose it’s not terribly unusual to begin the holiday season with a mild sense of panic. I’m certainly not unique for experiencing some minor dread about the impossibility of being able to experience the ultimate Christmas that probably only really exists on TV. I think we all try not to have expectations, but they just seem to be in our DNA. Having a lifelong history of depression and anxiety didn’t exactly make the experience easier. Tack on the 20 plus year eating disorder and it’s a wonder I don’t just leave town for the month of December. It’s hard to enjoy family and friends when all you think about is food or your entire day (including Christmas) is spent exercising for hours on end. Christmas cookies were more foe than friend and finding a place to purge after a holiday meal is a pain in the ass.
I’m not exactly sure when it started, but somewhere around junior high school, I started making these really elaborate Christmas gifts for everyone I could think of. I don’t know that I was cognizant of it at the time, but I think I was trying to “buy” some friends and fill that emptiness I felt. Let’s face it, someone in the midst of depression, anxiety, anorexia and bulimia is hardly the best candidate for friendship. I was just certain though that the most fabulous Christmas gift would endear me to herds of people.
The first gift was a little crafty reindeer thingy. I had seen them at a Christmas bazaar and they were oh so cute. They were a bitch to make, each taking an hour or so and my fingers hurt from all of the needlework and hot glue gun missteps. I hated those stupid things by the time I was done. But they were all the rage, everyone wanted one. I don’t remember who I gave them to and I don’t recall that they made me any new friends. I have a faint memory of disappointment, but all of that got buried away over time.
Over the next several years, there were lovely, hand-painted flower pots, the perfect red Christmas dishes with a variety of home-baked treats, reindeer candle holders, I’m sure something or other that I bedazzled, crafty this, crafty that, you get the idea. All gifts were beautifully wrapped and given to classmates or coworkers. I can’t think of anyone still in my life today that I would have given one to. Every year, I spent too many hours creating these masterpieces, hoping they would bring me happiness. And always the same disappointment when the holidays were over because it just never quite worked.
Somewhere around my late 20’s, I just quit. I put a moratorium on giving gifts to people other than family. I avoided most holiday things and never put up decorations. I skipped Christmas altogether one year and spent the day with my friend Jim Beam, much to the devastation of my mother. It felt good though not to get all worked up over all of the holiday expectations. No pressure, no disappointment. I thought I had found the solution for avoiding holiday insanity.
And then in my late 30’s, my life changed drastically. I had finally gotten help for my depression, anxiety and eating disorder and treated them aggressively. I got divorced, met the man of my dreams, went back to college after quitting many years before, got married, travelled, graduated, got a job…basically, I just completely started my life over from scratch. It was the most miraculous experience of my life and I am so very grateful.
Bill and I got a tree that first Christmas we were together. We bought the cat a stocking and threw a party. We had a blast. Over the next several years, we added to our decoration collection a little bit at a time. We started going to mass on Christmas Eve (I am not Catholic, ask me about my first experience “failing” communion) and seeing the Conspirare Christmas concert every year.
As my life has gotten better, so have the holidays. Not much dread happening. We have a lot of fun. My moratorium on gifts was still in effect until this year. I decided this year that I wanted to do something nice for everyone in my office. It’s a long, long story, but this job didn’t start out under the best circumstances and it’s taken a while to make it my own and to really feel like a part of the team. This year, it occurred to me that I really care for the people that I work with and I wanted to thank them. There was a moment that I thought about my history of trying to “buy” love through gift giving and I worried I was in for the same experience, but in my heart, I knew I really wanted to do this so it seemed worth the risk.
I decided on pumpkin bread because I have a recipe for possibly the best pumpkin bread on the planet. We went and bought all of the ingredients and over one weekend, Bill and I baked 20 loaves of pumpkin bread. I was a little sick of baking by the end of it, but we really did have a lot of fun and I was very pleased with how they turned out. I tied bows around each one and put on a gift tag for everyone in the office.
On Monday, I hauled everything into the office and put a loaf in each person’s box. The smell of pumpkin bread wafted through the hallway. One by one, people noticed their gift and made sure to give me a very polite thank you. I felt I had made the right decision on breaking the no gift rule and I was happy with the results. I had no idea what was to come.
That evening, we were at dinner with friends and two of the doctors texted me after they had tasted the pumpkin bread. “HOLY SHIT EMILY THIS BREAD IS SO GOOD!” said one. “Please make it for me every week!” said another. Of course I was incredibly flattered. The next day, more people came to me and told me about their experience eating the pumpkin bread. One doctor said her baby girl had just loved it and couldn’t get enough. Then she showed me pictures of her baby in her new Christmas coat. Another said her family had enjoyed it together at breakfast. My boss said his family were all in town and they finished off the whole loaf together. One of the secretaries said that she and her daughter had toasted it for breakfast and then she told me about this being their first Christmas since her divorce and she wanted it to be special. One of the therapists said she was talking to her sister on the phone and just couldn’t stop eating it.
What struck me about the whole thing was that this pumpkin bread was far more than just pumpkin bread. It was made by two people in love that loved making it together. It was made for the purest of intentions – because I wanted to do something special for the people that I work with because they matter to me. There was no hidden agenda. And the end result was something I could not have even imagined. Each loaf of pumpkin bread became the centerpiece of a joyful experience that each recipient got to share with their family and I got to hear about all of these experiences, thereby giving me a little glimpse of their lives. It was absolutely marvelous.
I’m not saying my pumpkin bread changed the world or anything like that. I’m not delusional. Time will move forward and the pumpkin bread will be forgotten and new experiences will happen. I do wonder though if the pumpkin bread changed me to some extent. I don’t feel like the same person I was before. There is no disappointment or regret. There is no emptiness in my heart that needs to be filled. It’s already full.
And that is a miracle.
