I intended to post this well before Christmas but Clearwire/gmail was having issues...better late than never!
Christmas has always had a special magical quality for me and though I know my children enjoy the holiday, somehow, things are just not quite the same.
It starts with the music. Christmas music is arguably some of the most beautiful ever written. It's pleasant to listen to and I love to sing along with them (singability is a huge factor for any song for me). Though I am not particularly religious, I still find the traditional songs to be poignant; I remember wishing (when I was about 8) that I could be a Christian. Just for the holiday season so I could sing the songs and truly be a part of the wonder and awe I felt in the lyrics (I assumed it was a given that came with the religious label). I am often sadly amazed by how few of these carols can be sung by my children; A hears Christmas music piped in at work these days but even when she was a small child, she only picked up a few of the most frequently played songs. Both C and T, who play a number of songs for band, know the tunes but don't always know the lyrics. Many's the time we are driving along, a song will come on the radio and one of them will say, "Hey, that sounds familiar..."
Then there's the tree. When we were kids, picking out the tree was a family affair. We would go down to the lot and look at dozens of trees. Mom would stand them up and shake them out to see if too many needles fell off. We had to make sure it wasn't too tall for our low ceiling and we had to make sure if there was a bald spot it could be cleverly hidden against the wall. My brother and sister and I couldn't wait for Mom to finishing stringing the lights on and each ornament we personally hung felt like an old friend. Now my family has been ordering trees to support Habilitat for years now. We go down to the pick-up site, show them our ticket, one of the workers shows us several trees in the type and height that we purchased, we select one, and we cart it home. It is all very brisk and business-like. E and I put the tree in the stand immediately and fill it with water but the decorating is often put on hold for at least a day or two; my kids' schedules have reached a point where we have to figure out on which day and time the majority of them will be home. This year, we decorated the tree without A. She put her decorations on the tree a few days later. We could tell she was in a hurry because all her ornaments ended up in the front instead of being equally distributed all the way around.
Then there's the delicious anticipation. I remember sitting under the tree for long stretches at a time; sometimes just to admire the tree and breathe in its unmatchable fragrance and sometimes, along with my brother and sister, it was to poke and prod at the tantalizingly wrapped packages beneath the tree. Anything new that was added was immediately noted. The wonder and the waiting. It was all part of the magic. These days, my kids walk past the tree and barely acknowledge it. Maybe it's because our house is a lot bigger than the one I grew up in; it's easier for a tree to become part of the scenery when you aren't passing within inches of it several times a day. So far, the only "kid" I had to extract from underneath the tree was Rusty; he had found a package addressed to "Judy's furry children" from my co-worker Sandi. That particular package ended up on the dining room table until gift-opening time!
When E and I first got married, we began the Christmas Eve tradition of taking A to a movie. The theaters were almost completely deserted so a squirming, talkative child was not the disruption it would be at other times. It was also a good way to tire her out enough to sleep that night. We continued the tradition with the boys. Unfortunately for the past couple of years, A has not joined us. Her work schedule around the holiday picks up and she is often too tired to want to join in. This year, C was also not available on the Eve either; UH played in the Sheraton Bowl and whither the team goest, so shall the band. We did do movie night on the 23rd instead of eliminating it completely, but it did feel a bit strange.
But is that just me? Now that the kids are so much older and beginning to truly build their own lives, how important are the little traditions we've built up over the years? Would they notice if we didn't have crunchy jumble cookies when we decorate the tree? Would they care if their gifts from us were placed under the tree ahead of time, rather than placed in their huge personalized stockings on Christmas Eve? What if I changed the dinner menu or ceased selecting a new ornament for each kid every year? Would it matter?
Of course it would. Because traditions are not just the time and effort that are put into them, nor are they merely the acts themselves; they are also the feelings and memories that surround them. I cannot assume that just because my children are growing older and their priorities needed to change that the traditions mean any less to them today than they did 10 years ago. My children may not be able to join us for Christmas Eve movie night or sing the exact words to the Top 10 Christmas Carols of the Ages, but they do have fond memories of meals shared, gifts given and time spent during this magical time of the year. I know. Because when I think of my Christmas past, what shines brightest and clearest is the sense of joy and family I experienced with my own mother and siblings. This remembered joy makes me miss my brother and sister at Christmas more than at any other time of the year and will ensure that our Christmas traditions endure and adapt with each stage of our children's lives and with every addition to our family.
A Merry Christmas...today and always!
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