Ornaments that commemorate a pandemic. Tasteless? Maybe. Nihilistic? For sure. But also kind of funny?
I was perusing my Facebook feed in the bleary morning hours before I woke up my kids for school-at-home, savoring the silence and sipping my coffee that was honestly, too hot, but damned if I wasn’t going to get it in my body before I released the hounds. In between the usual posts from my aunt (toss up between a Jesus-themed post or a Southern food recipe) and updates from my dumpster-fire of a neighborhood group, I saw an ad from some no-name company with something like this:
Um, what?
There’s no way this is real, I said to myself. Who would want to commemorate this absolute sh*t-show of a year? Who wants a list of all the stupid things that happened during 2020? You can see them listed: hoarding, masks, hand sanitizer, quarantine, isolation, emblazoned on an ornament that will be brought out every year henceforth.
I decided to investigate.
To Etsy! To Hallmark! To Amazon for learning!
On Google, in the box, ‘quarantine ornaments’ I’m searching!
YAWL.
WHAT.
What do you want, buyers of these icons of awful? Do you hope that one day in the future, after things “go back to normal,” that as you gather around your Yule bush, you’ll catch a glimpse of the sparkly hand sanitizer ornament and shudder to yourself, recalling that awful year so long ago? Will the masked Santa fill you with relief that it’s all over now? How about the personalized family ornament featuring you, your SO, and your doggo, all sporting masks? Does that bring you joy? Will it bring you joy in 5 years? When we’re all hunched and old in 2087, will hanging that 2020 that’s been stretched into a middle finger put a smile on our faces? It’s weird, right? Also, I’ve now damaged my Etsy search history by looking these up. You’re welcome.
And for another thing, for all the chatter about demand, trying to shift blame to people who are actually forking over cash for these stupid ornaments, this is definitely a cash grab from companies, desperate to make a little cash by making light of a really awful situation? Who is making a profit here? As my husband pointed out, nobody who actually lost someone is going to be buying an ornament to commemorate the year Gram-Gram died of loneliness because we couldn’t go see her, or the year Uncle Mark caught COVID-19 and spent his last frightening days in an overcrowded hospital with no visitors and not enough nursing staff. Those people are going to recall 2020 as the year a hole appeared in their lives. You probably know someone who doesn’t need an ornament.
These exist. There’s no getting around it. And people are buying them. Is there something else going on here?
Despite my initial reaction to seeing a sparkly toilet paper or a laptop ornament reading “Our Online Wedding,” it’s not so strange that we magpies collect trinkets that bring comfort to us, especially in times of plague. In fact, it’s almost appropriate (in whatever way that word can be applied here) that this mess came up in November when we think about the end of the year, the end of the lively summer, the end of longer days. Instead of being out and about, we become more wrapped up internally, not just against the cold weather– I live in Texas, so what is cold– and this gives us more time to look at ourselves and our relationships with our family and friends.
Lots of people point out that “the holidays,” usually referring to Thanksgiving and Christmas, are really tough on people who have lost loved ones. These holidays, which are at the end of the year, are a time when the presence or absence of loved ones is keenly felt. Like it or not, there will eventually come a time when you have a “last Christmas” with somebody. You might not even know when it is. I didn’t know that last Christmas would be the last one with my beloved cat, Nicky. He was 20, you guys. My husband had him since he was a kitten, he’d wormed his way into my heart over the last nine years. He lived way longer than expected, and we joked he was immortal, until he wasn’t anymore. Perhaps worse than that, last Christmas was also our last with one of our huskies we thought was in good health until she took a nap one afternoon in August and didn’t wake up. No idea what happened. These are “just pets,” I know, but you’ll easily find the same story played out with our human kin as well. One Christmas, Nanny or Dad or Uncle Phil was there. The next they weren’t. Maybe it was an accident, an illness, a tragedy, or just age. Maybe it was COVID that took your loved one this year. Whatever happened, it’s raw and it’s going to really suck as our year comes to a close. I’m thinking about you.
We all eventually have to face the fact that we will no longer be around ourselves. One day we might not wake up from a nap, or maybe we’ll burn out more or less gracefully with age. Perhaps some of us will develop illness or have accidents. One day you’re going to die. You need to come to terms with that. Embrace it. Accept it. Make your present count.
Our ancestors knew death. They knew it from an earlier age when death accompanied them every moment. If an infant made it to childhood, it beat steep odds. If a child made it to adulthood, the odds were better but still steep. In an age where handwashing wasn’t a thing and sanitation was an afterthought at best, people expected death every year whether from a summertime plague or a particularly harsh winter. Death was so much a part of daily life that people carried items with them or placed items in their homes to remind them of the inevitability of death.
The Latin for this is momento mori. Remember you too shall die. Skulls were a popular object of reminder, showing up in paintings, being worn as as pendants, depicted in prints, etc. Remember that painting in The Little Mermaid where Ariel sings about the fire burning?
The work is from the mid-1600s and is called Magdalen with the Smoking Flame. On the Magdalen’s lap is a skull that caresses as she stares into the flame and thinks. This is religious iconography intended to remind viewers that life is short and fragile and encourages viewers to see to their souls.
In 2020, we had a global pandemic. It is fitting that momento mori should re-enter the public consciousness. For those of us who live through it, these sparkly mementos, while lacking the same outward gravitas as a skull or grim reaper, might somehow carry a similar connotation as we age. On the nose they are undeniably tacky, stupid reminders of a horrible year that cost us Alex Trebek and Kobe Bryant (among so many others), saw an ugly election season, let alone the worldwide health crisis, and cost some of us family and friends and financial stability.
But it’s not all bad.
Instead of momento mori discouraging us, we should harness it. As the year dies, we can choose to live. We persevere and keep stepping forward, leaving 2020 behind. This is not to say that we forget what we’ve learned this year or stop missing those who are no longer with us, but that we resolve to carry on for them. We don’t stop living, we don’t give up. Yes, one day, we too shall die. But until then we have time to make change, we have time to improve, we have time to seize the day, and we should.
See to your souls. Hold your family tightly. Reach out to your loved ones as often and as safely as you can.
Okay, okay, just a few more. These are honestly beyond words.
AorthianArcher's 