A few years ago on Dec 26th, excess ribbon and gift wrapping still strewn about the house, my parents called my brothers and me into the basement. They sat us down for a “Family Meeting” and informed us that they were separating, which would eventually become divorce and remarriage (for my dad).
There is really no good time to be a child of divorce, but one of the drawbacks of a marriage falling apart so late in the game is that things are pretty well set at that point. We’d had 25 years to establish solid traditions and in one single moment in our damp smelling basement, those were all pulled out from beneath us.
At first, we floundered. And drank a lot. I even took one year off entirely and claimed it my “Scooge” Year, figuring we all get at least one in life and it seemed as good a time as any to play that card. Slowly and surely, though, my brothers, mom and I found our footing. It took a while, and facing the season of festive and tradition was hard. I even ran off to Montana for two of them. We have started new traditions. They are fun traditions and they will continue to grow and evolve as our family grows and evolves.
I have always loved the magic of Christmas, even when I was scrooging. I love the idea of a season devoted to love and twinkle lights. I love gifting to my friends and family and watching It’s A Wonderful Life on repeat. I love the smell of pine and haunting Advent carols. I remember knowing that even when I was in the blackness of scrooging, that I would find my way out and I have. This is my last Christmas season in Texas before heading back up to the great white north and I am excited to take advantage of all of it.
Happy Christmas Season!