Finding Christmas

“and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! ” – Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

This summer, I was talking to our daughter about our plans to become nomads. She understood, of course, like everyone else did. Barry and I had done long distance for several years, and my traveling with him would allow us to be together. She did have a few questions, and one of them hit me the hardest. “Ok, so Mom,” she said, “what about Christmas? You love the holidays. That’s your time of year. Are you going to be ok not doing Christmas?”
Honestly, nobody else brought that up, and I love that she knows me so well. It was something I had contemplated, but my only possible response at the time was that I didn’t know, and I would figure something out.
Because she was right. I do love the entire Christmas season. The day after Thanksgiving always kicked off the festivities for our family. Traditions morphed over the years as the kids grew and circumstances changed, but the heart of the holidays always stayed true. Some years we went Black Friday shopping, some years I was working in retail so the family would visit me at work. When we lived in the Northwest we went to a tree farm to cut our own tree and drink hot cider; after we moved to the South, Lowe’s or Home Depot became our tree shopping destination followed by a trip to Starbucks. Once the kids moved out and Barry was traveling, I had to switch to an artificial one, because buying an 8-foot tree by myself and bringing it home on top of my Mini Cooper seemed a little unrealistic. Putting up the lights and decorations on the tree and around the house feeds my creative side. Each new house brought its own challenges and opportunities. One year when the kids were small, we didn’t have money for decorations, and I took some of their Christmas artwork and crafts, bought some dollar store frames, and hung them on the wall. They loved it, and I’ve hung them every year since. And then let’s talk about food. I’m a baker, and since nobody is on a diet in December, it is my time to shine! I make my grandma’s fudge recipe, and the kids’ favorite cookies. We’ve continued a tradition I had growing up – “birthday cake for Jesus” for Christmas breakfast – in the early days it was pineapple upside down cake – now that everyone is of legal age, it’s pineapple upside down rum cake. There’s concerts and Nutcracker performances, parties, the midnight Christmas Eve service, and watching Home Alone together. On a quiet evening I’ll sit with a glass of wine and read Dicken’s “A Christmas Carol”. Every year.

Before you think I live in a Hallmark movie, I readily acknowledge that many years were not easy. Sure, there’s always a little stress, unwanted obligations, traffic, unmet expectations, and rude customers. (15 years in retail – ugh!) There’s never enough time and always too much to do. There are also years where the trials and trauma threatened to smother our light and our joy. We’ve had Christmases of unemployment, when the tree was small, the gifts were few and we were just thankful we had a place to live. One year Christmas came a month after I had been diagnosed with cancer for the second time. Fear and uncertainty loomed over us, attempting to steal our peace. Our son’s (now ex) wife is the worst kind of narcissist, and spending the holidays with her gave new meaning to the words anxiety and drama.

Now, here I am, facing Christmas 2024 and trying to figure it out. While we are not facing particular hardships this season, the holidays seem distant. This nomadic version of “the most wonderful time of the year” is challenging at best. What am I going to do? I could just skip it this year. Barry bought me a magazine – the winter edition of Magnolia (yes, I love Joanna Gaines) – but leafing through its’ pages brought a sense of melancholy. Because most of the things I mentioned above, the things that inspire my holiday spirit, the things that bring me joy – they are not happening this year. Our tree and all the house decorations are deep in the back of the storage unit. The stockings, and even my “A Christmas Carol” book, are somewhere in that abyss as well. I’m not doing any baking, because while I (reluctantly) admit I could eat 3 pounds of fudge in the next few weeks, I most definitely should not. Barry needed to work in Ohio for part of this month – he’s there now – and I am still in Kansas, prepping for our next move. So we are not together, and we are not even going to see anyone that we know for most of the month. No church party this year, no Nutcracker shows. As I type this there are 16 days until Christmas, a fact my head knows, but my heart is struggling to comprehend. It just doesn’t feel like Christmas.

Returning to my daughter’s question: am I okay not doing Christmas? Almost without hesitation, I realize the answer is no. I don’t want to skip it simply because I’m not in the holiday spirit yet. Will it look completely different from what I’m used to? Absolutely. But so what? I don’t want to miss out on the possibility of what it could be. Random adventures, small gifts, new traditions begun. If we only focus on the negatives, our disappointments, and our ideals of how it should be, we can forget what is truly important. Scrooge hated Christmas because he had forgotten its beauty and power and meaning. Celebration encourages us to remember the past, be present in the moment, and look to the future. It’s the day we commemorate the birth that brought hope, peace, love, and light to a dark world.
Emmanuel, God With Us.

At the end of this month, we are going to be able to have a (slightly belated) family Christmas at an Airbnb. We’ll be in Chattanooga the last week of December, and the kids will be able to hang out for a few days. I am immensely grateful for that. We’ll go buy a Charlie Brown tree – maybe the last one on the lot – and we’ll set it up somewhere, even if it’s on the kitchen table. A friend offered to host a dinner party for our little tribe, and we might even make it to the Christmas Eve service. And somehow, I’m going to figure out a way to bake something. A few of our traditions will continue on, tweaked once again, but true to their spirit.
In the meantime, I’m going to look for new and creative ways to celebrate, and embrace the small joys and simple pleasures of the season. I’m going to add whipped cream to my hot cocoa and veg out on the Hallmark channel. I’m going to sing along with my Christmas Spotify playlist, loud and proud. I’m going to take an online course teaching on my favorite Dickens classic. I’m going to be extra kind to the cashiers and servers. I’m going to pay for the drink behind me in the Starbucks line. I believe if I start looking for Christmas, I will find it everywhere. I’ll find it in the stranger who holds the door and offers a Happy Holidays. I’ll find it when a child’s face lights up as a bank teller hands her a candy cane. I’ll find it when I gaze at the stars, strewn across a cold Kansas sky, and remember the Magi in search of a King. I’ll find it in the grazing cows and sheep I drive past, because I’ll think about the shepherds who stood in awe of the Christ-child. I’ll find it in the Facebook memories that show up each day, and as I look on Christmases past spent with my dear family and friends, like Mary, I will ponder these things in my heart. I will remember Jesus’ birth and celebrate it as best I can, wherever I am, and that is quite enough for me.
May it be said of me that I learned to keep Christmas well. And God bless us, everyone!