Article archive / December 1, 2013
Originally published: . Volume 5, No. 4. Source pages: 15.
[Editors note: Dr. McGahan graciously offered to share a personal Christmas story with Times readers. He is Professor of Social Psychology and Co-Director of The Social Science Research Lab at the University of Louisiana at Monroe.]
As the oldest of six children, I was fortunate to be a big part of my parents “first crack” at a family Christmas. Thanksgiving parades, Rockefeller Center, warm chestnuts from street vendors in New York City, and unbelievable gifts from Santa made Christmas a seriously major event in my life. In fact, one year, even though we lived in a relatively small apartment, in addition to a really cool Winchester rifle and spaceships that blasted off, somehow my parents got Santa to give me an HO train-set mounted on a piece of plywood with hand painted little people, buildings, animals, and trees.
And that approach to Christmas continued well into my elementary school experience; indeed, I may have been one of the last kids in my class to learn that my parents were Santa.
But then it changed; Christmas was no longer accompanied by anticipation, fun, and excitement. Norms and obligations consumed choice and, instead of happiness, joy and smiles, Christmas became a lengthy series of meaningless burdens that brought dread and disappointment.
This represented quite an attitude change, to say the least; maybe even a paradigm shift in my reality.
Clearly, I became a “humbug” and, unfortunately, I probably ruined the holidays, at least to some extent, for my wife, daughter, family and friends.
The good news, however, was that my wife, Patti, loved Christmas more than I despised it and, as a result of her love and endless creative efforts, Christmas cheer prevailed in our home; but it did not negate my “attitude (problem)”.
Then, on December 19, 1993, after almost ten years of fighting a battle with cancer, my father, Raymond Edward McGahan, died.
You would think, given the negative affect normally associated with death, that my father’s death on December 19th would have made me even more negative toward Christmas.
But that did not happen; instead, Christmas (once again) became a meaningful positive experience for me because, on December 19th, when I feel (some of) the sadness that (still) accompanies bereavement, I get the gift of remembering how much I loved and love my dad. Although his battle with cancer was brutal at times, making it seem like integrity was losing to despair, somehow “peace and happiness prevailed” through the finale of his life.
I am not a religious person, given the traditional use of the word, but I honestly can say that I felt gifted and even blessed to be by his side numerous times during the last three months of his battle. I often tell people that it was “as if” God was giving me batting practice time-and-time again during my final visits with him, and much to our mutual satisfaction, I seemed to be able to hit those pitches (making my dad, who wanted me to be a baseball player, a proud father).
So, these days, whereas I (try to) think of Easter as a celebration of death, I (try to) think of Christmas as a celebration of birth and, with each celebration of birth, I like to think that peace and happiness might prevail.
Have a Happy Christmas.
Dr. Joe McGahan (L) with his mother-in-law and Dr. Susan Dardard (R) at a previous convention. Dr. McGahan is Professor of Social Psychology at ULM.
This article is part of a historical newspaper archive. Read the original issue for its original layout, photographs and graphics.