It’s so strange how holiday traditions change over the years. My youth was encapsulated by family and I had no idea it was a tradition until it came to an end.
Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. I was the instigator of putting up the outdoor lights and would help my dad, who was brave enough to hang over the roofs edge to clip them onto the second story while I fed the untangled lines to him. Wrapping lights around the balcony as we got older I think we eventually avoided the roof line. Setting up the wise men and nativity set were also my chores I readily flocked to, decorating the piano gave it purpose as it became the only time of year it had any attention. Heading to the tree farm to cut a real tree, there were at least a few years I cut my own mini tree to adorn my room and give my cat D.T. a place to sleep under it’s boughs. I didn’t mess around with Christmas spirit.
As an adult Christmas was a family tradition, no way could we make alternate plans, it was never about friends, unless they showed up to join our family. When I was married it was a flipped celebration, one side had the eve the other had the day and I wish now I had every Christmas for my side.
I don’t really remember the gifts, we drew names among the Mayfield side and it never seemed to matter what we opened, some years there were more memories with the items (hot sauce comes to mind) but I remember the dinners…mostly at my Aunts house.
We ate early around 4ish, with relish trays to pick off of while the cooking wrapped up, many fingers covered by olives while we “kids” now in our 20s and 30s gabbed and caught up within the cousin circle. Dressed in our better clothes, I wouldn’t call it fancy, but it possessed effort, we would indulge in a cocktail or glass of wine engaging in our social circles and laughing at stupid jokes thrown around.
Once dinner was served, we sat ourselves at the table, sometimes in assigned seats-depending on the level of fancy Aunt Mary felt for the occasion- it was nice to age out of the kids table and just sit at one very long extended table with all of the real adults. Passing plates of delicious pot roast, turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, random veggies, salad, and cranberries around until everyone had their fill and conversation slowed. We’d clean up and find out way to the other room where everyone would sluggishly make their way to the TV, where occasionally we’d have a show of old home movies, games and our gift exchange. Eventually feeling like dessert, we would cut ourselves slices of pie and maybe another round of beverages until the night inevitably wound down and we’d make our way to our cars fir the drive home. Even though many of the years I was driven home by my ex-husband, I only remember going home with my parents having my Dad at the wheel. The memory brings me such comfort and may be a much younger memory of falling asleep in the wayback of the van with smooth jazz or Christmas songs playing softly on the radio and my parents conversation muted in warm background noise.
The last Christmas that had any semblance of these memories was in 2015. My Aunt died only few short unexpected weeks later. I couldn’t tell you then that life was literally altered and Christmas has never been Christmas again. Spending 4 years by myself on Christmas, it felt better to stay home and have my own tradition with Teddy, my dog, then show up to any Christmas party I was invited to, the contrast being to much to take. Christmas just simply lost its purpose. I think having spread ourselves out all over the states, my parents and sister likely feel the same loss, with no one close to one another. Although I’m sure my mom would still like to have the time together.
This year I feel the gap more deeply than I have in the last 7 years. Maybe it’s due to changes in the depth of my current relationship with Alex and spending the holiday with him and his mother, or the fact that everyone is much older and life feels dangerously fragile near the holidays, or the simple fact that the holiday feels long and drawn out like winter…it has become and indoor activity that’s dark and cold. I think the main reason is that it lacks tradition…and family. I feel orphaned in a way.
I know the holidays are hard for many people because as you live life you experience loss and that loss is always more evident during times of expected traditions.
Cheers to the memories that feed my soul, cheers to the people who built my youth, and cheers to the future and possibility of creating a new tradition that holds my future memories in the second part of my life. Merry Christmas to all: to the ones in the midst of the good times and to those who hold the memorues of the past with tears in their eyes.
The Fish Eye 