A New Christmas Morning
I spent the better part of a recent Sunday afternoon stringing outside Christmas lights. First order, as usual, was to test the lights from last year to make sure they still work. In my case, the family room floor was lined with strands of happy lights. Then, I took the bundle of strands along with my ladder and tackled the high top bushes and shrubs just beyond my front door. Upon connection, the expected “wow” moment of illumination was met with a complete bust. I mean, who doesn’t relate to lights that work and then don’t?
That same afternoon, I realized this will be the first Christmas in over 40 years my husband and I will be alone on Christmas morning. After decades of Christmas craziness, we find ourselves entering a new chapter. Our four children are creating their own family traditions which is the ultimate goal, right? Yes, we’ll create other pockets of time to celebrate Christmas with our kids intentionally and creatively. Love is alive and well. Ultimately it doesn’t matter when or where. However, the reality of such a quiet Christmas morning left me in unchartered territory.
For years our Christmas Days have been defined by excited exuberance. Even before we had children, we spent the holiday travelling between our parents’ houses. We never wanted to miss any tradition. Passing the lit candle to make a Christmas wish at my mom’s house made way to beef brisket cooked to perfection at my mother-in-law’s house. The ensuing years built upon growing our own Christmas mornings with videos of our young children coming down the stairs together at the crack of dawn.
Oh wait, have I mentioned our son, Matthew was born on Christmas Day? Being able to celebrate the gift of him each year as a family has been fabulous. The story of his birth will be my greatest Christmas gift ever for all time. In addition, we have grandchildren which are, hands down, the finest blessings of the season. Truth be told, regardless of whether or not we are actually together on Christmas morning, we will be profoundly connected to the wonder of great, big and beautiful love.
Given the imminent change this year, I found myself pacing with questions about the unknown. Does this mean instead of the family favorite egg and sausage Christmas morning casserole I’ll default to the usual yogurt and granola breakfast? Will coffee taste different without the laughter and excitement of our little ones climbing on our laps in their matching pj’s? And speaking of Christmas morning, does this mean I need to have something under the tree for my husband other than the usual socks and cologne? I mean who needs fancy gifts when my husband and I are deluged with grandchild themed photo gifts and calendars that define the world of precious. Although I’m certain we will still receive these priceless gifts, the family room floor splayed with wrapping paper remnants just won’t be the same. My husband continues to reassure me we will be just fine this Christmas.
That evening, I walked outside to enjoy the creative efforts it took me to hang Christmas lights. The display is anything but impressive, but the lights work and their twinkle framed by dusk dawning made me smile. I heard the higher voices in my head telling me change is ok. So what if we don’t have a plethora of people tripping over boxes on Christmas morning. Yogurt and granola paired with a festive coffee mug can make any morning special, even Christmas. I’m wondering how happy my husband would be with the gift of matching pajamas. On second thought, new socks will probably be just fine.
Photo by Ksenia Yakovleva on Unsplash