Christmas Now

I know that some of you, my friends, had difficult Christmases to face this year. Well, you aren’t alone. The continuity is that Christmas comes every year. My memories are scattered all over my tree in representative ornaments, and my external hard drives and photo albums are full of Christmas pictures. Proof that it comes every year. Proof that even in bad times, there can be, there must be, Christmas.

I am crazy about my family. I am crazy about Christmas. I always want to give my family the best memories possible. As a child, it never crossed my mind to wonder if my parents had any expectations about Christmas. But, I don’t really think they did. Things were simple, easy, and my brother and I were grateful for whatever came during the holy season.

Through the years, I have had my own expectations of Christmas. It is amazing how those expectations have changed as our family degenerated. I used to expect that my children would enjoy Christmas, that all the toys would actually work, that the family dinner would turn out perfectly, and that the weather wouldn’t hamper our plans to visit our family in another state. As our children left home and married, I expected them to come to the family gathering, to be on time, and I expected the meal, now larger, to be enjoyable. As we began to be blessed with grandchildren, we expected to see their shining faces opening presents under our family tree. We expected to get to play with their new toys with them and to read them the books we had given them. We expected nothing from them except to just be with them and give them our love in hugs, kisses, and presents. These are simple expectations, right? Wrong!

Through a series of painfully difficult situations, I have learned over the years to keep my expectations for Christmas very low. But, always the fool, I did it again. I set myself up for disappointment this year by expecting anything.

Our family was established in 1973 when Paul and I married. We have been a family for 36 years. Continuity. But one part of our family can no longer accept that. The choice is the “old” family or the “new” family. Plans were being formed for Christmas, but as always, I have to figure things out on my own and at the last second. Little did I know that what was being said to me was not what was really happening. “I want to have the 3 oldest grandkids for a sleepover and a cookie-baking marathon.” Instead of saying, “That sounds like fun,” the real answer should have been, “Well, that might not happen.” I could have lived with that. But instead, an expectation was established. “Can we please have our family Christmas on Christmas Eve?” Instead of no response whatsoever, the real answer should have been, “No. I have other plans.” Or how about, “I have other plans, but maybe we can come for an hour.” At least then we could have given the girls their presents, even if they didn’t open them then. Instead of responding to my question with, “Yes, you will see the girls and can give them their gifts,” the real answer should have been, “No, I won’t be bringing them to see you at all this Christmas.” And we haven’t seen them.

I was forced to choose an alternate date, which was a very hard one for me to meet. Our original family unit has not been together in the same room for years. That hope alone, the thought that it might actually happen for even a moment, was my greatest disappointment. To my invitation, I never got a response, not even for my granddaughter. The real answer should have been, “No. It isn’t allowed.”

That broken piece of our family unit was put away, and we looked ahead. Because of the shortness of time, I didn’t get everything done so things would be perfect. My house wasn’t as clean as I wanted it. I didn’t get all my decorations up. The food wasn’t as fancy as I wanted it. I didn’t get to have that cookie-baking marathon I was so looking forward to. I wasn’t comfortable with some of the presents I bought. I needed help choosing Christmas gifts. Children in divorced families have so many Christmases, it is impossible not to have duplications. Communication is critical, but there was none.

Guess what. Christmas came. Christmas happened anyway. We truly had a wonderful Christmas full of family fun. We had all boys since the girls weren’t allowed to participate. That was awesome! Our events for the day were catered to boys only. It was a wonderful Christmas celebration with those who choose to be in my family. I posted 134 photos of our fun on Facebook.

Taking down the tree was hard. Christmas wasn’t complete, and those who missed it didn’t even have a choice in the matter. Gifts for 2 granddaughters sit in the corner of my living room. I specifically asked if we would be able to give them, was told yes, so we completed our shopping for them. And there the gifts sit in the corner, unpresented, possibly duplicate gifts. Another chance to grow, right? Moving on.

Every Christmas I find that perfect ornament that symbolizes the year. One of my favorites is a little tray with 2 plates of cookies and 2 mugs of cocoa. One mug says Mother, the other says Daughter. That year we were both so hormonal, it was hilarious. She was pregnant; I was starting “the change.” But we both had some of the same symptoms. What a time we had together that year sharing secrets, hot Krispy Kreme donuts, and carmel macchiatos. My friend, Ellen, has said repeatedly that she can’t wait to see what my ornament is for this year. It has been a year of healing for me. Guess what, Ellen? There won’t be one. This is the first year we have missed having Christmas with a family member, especially a grandchild. So this year’s ornament will be permanently missing as well. A hole in my collection.

I have a broken ornament that, I think, means more to me broken than it did whole. I haven’t even tried to repair it. Given to me by a family member, it is a simple plastic ornanment that spells out the word joy. It broke between the O and the Y, so the 2 parts hang loosely on a single plastic thread. How symbolic that is to me! Even broken, joy is still joy. You just can’t get past that. Joy to the world! Christmas is about God sending His Son to save us. Joy! It is about celebrating that event and the effect it had on an entire world. Who knows this better than we who, with God’s help, have survived difficult times?

I can’t save my family. I can’t even help myself. My help (and yours) comes from the Lord. THAT is the focus of Christmas. Not the love and hopes for my family, not my expectations, not my desires. Just celebrating the only thing in this life that is eternal. So much has been stripped away from me that I can now see more clearly. I may never have peace with my family, or restoration. Ok. But I do have the peace of God in me, and that is all I can answer for. Christmas future? Well, that remains to be seen. Only God has any answers whatsoever.