Christmas Traditions, Joy and Memories

As seen in the St. Paul Pioneer Press on 12/19/15

Though Christmas is just days away I find myself strangely relaxed. Unlike years past, I haven’t been wracking my brain for clever stocking stuffers, for I didn’t hang the stockings this year. I’m not concerned about menus, for I’m not hosting a meal. Unfettered by the pressure to make the holiday perfect for my loved ones, I’ve allowed my mind to reflect upon Christmas past, present and future.

I’ve been indulging crisp, but dated, images of a large, fresh spruce tree perfectly positioned in the living room that strangers now inhabit. I recall years when my children were young and their wish lists long; lists populated by requests for videos and toys instead of boots and Amazon gift cards.

I recall years of shopping to the point of exhaustion; when I felt physically ill because I’d pulled my credit card out one time too many. I think back to the years of unsuccessfully hiding gifts from snoopy children who were so excited by the holiday they had trouble falling asleep on the night they believed Santa would visit. I recall the Christmas Eves when I feverishly wrapped gifts behind a locked door, praying my energy would outlast my exhaustion.

I recall how, when the kids had finally closed their eyes, “Santa” and I scurried down the stairs, arms overflowing with colorful packages. Together we would arrange and rearrange the gifts, always worrying just a tad about parity. Had we procured an equal number of gifts for the little people who would rip them open the next morning? I knew that anticipation could easily be supplanted by disappointment – in both child and parent.

In the past six years my family has contracted and expanded. Our “Santa” is no longer with us. My kids are in their 20s and 30s now; two are married and living in Colorado. Rather reluctantly, I’m adjusting to holidays without all my loved ones at home.

I recognize that my Christmas present is out of sync with memories of Christmas past. The artificial tree I purchased on sale is nestled in the corner of my sunroom, decorated by me, with help from the one offspring who lives in town. The tree won’t be surrounded by many gifts this year, though, for the lists have grown shorter as the items have gotten spendier. Moreover, we will celebrate Christmas and New Years in both Minnesota and Colorado. This, I’m certain, will be our Christmas future.

Many of my peers have reached a similar transition point in their lives. As our kids find life partners — in Minnesota or elsewhere — we can no longer assume that the entire family will be together for the holidays. It is inevitable that the kids and their spouses will split their time between families or choose to spend them alone. Like it or not, we parents must pivot and establish new traditions.

That type of change is not necessarily a bad thing, although, like a new pair of shoes, it can take time to find the right fit. New traditions can take us to new destinations and new people, reminding us there are many ways to experience the peace and joy that is integral to the holiday.

For the past few years my younger kids and I have celebrated holidays with both extended family and friends who have introduced us to their traditions. It’s been fun and heart warming.

Last weekend I traveled to Tampa, Florida, to spend time with my siblings, their spouses, and my nephews. By chance the visit coincided with the Christmas boat parade about which my sister has raved for years. We spent hours together preparing for her tradition, a neighborhood potluck capped off with fireworks. As we set out Christmas candles and serving dishes we caught up on each other’s lives and commiserated about the past.

When the boat parade commenced we watched the cruisers and dinghies glide up and down the canal, with Christmas tunes blaring and shouts of “Merry Christmas” exchanged by landlubbers and boat riders. We laughed at the cockeyed, inflatable Santa who looked as if he had been over-served and marveled at the creative lighting on several of the vessels.

The boat parade reminded me of the Holidazzle parade that was a Minnesota tradition for so long. I recall bundling up my children to brace against the cold so we could watch float after float pass by, with occupants sporting colorful holiday attire and demonstrating their best holiday waves. Like my family’s Christmas, the Holidazzle parade has given way to something new.

I realize I did my part to make Christmas a joyful, meaningful time for my family. Now I’m looking forward to sharing in the traditions the kids establish with their spouses; in watching them learn to balance the joys and stressors of the holidays; and playing Santa to their children. I’m eager to be the guest, instead of the host.

In the coming years the grandchildren will have their own wish lists. I look forward to seeing their bright eyes, filled with anticipation, as they scrutinize the packages that circle the tree. I hope they will experience the joy their parents felt when the fruits of Santa’s efforts were revealed on Christmas morning. I’ll tuck it all away, for while the location and the gifts may change, one thing remains constant: the memories matter.