Three more days until Christmas!
I’ve been counting down the days with my youngest grandgirl, who is old enough not to snoop through the presents but still young enough to pretend to believe in Santa.
When you reach a certain point in life, it’s hard not to compare Christmas present with all those Christmases past. Leafing through family photo albums reveals a chronology of not only my children’s rapid surge from infant to adult, but also a reminder of how precious our hours with family and friends should be.
As a kid, caught up in the terror that maybe I hadn’t been as good as I should be, it was impossible to believe that things could change. Life was good, and I assumed permanent, with my grandparents and parents as the reassuring adult presence, and my sisters as thorns in my side — especially the one who insisted she’d written Santa and told him I didn’t deserve a thing.
My maternal grandmother shared our home with us and tolerated our running in at the break of dawn on Christmas morning to coerce her out of a warm bed into the cold living room. Huddled near the fuel oil stove my father soon kicked up to high, she watched with an indulgent smile as we tore into the stack of wrapped gifts.
Fast forward to my years as a young wife and mother.
Some years, we’d split the holiday between my family and my husband’s; other times we traveled to my sister’s home in Florida. One memorable year, we all met in Tennessee, where my parents kept the little kids while we big kids went to the Christmas show at the Grand Old Opry.
Even then, it was hard to think about the generations changing. My grandparents were older, but still thrilled to share the holiday with their new great-grandchildren. My parents were more active than ever as they found new things to do as their nest emptied, and I was too busy trying to keep one kid away from the other’s gifts to think about any other sort of Christmas.
This year, so many of those beloved faces will be missing from our celebration — my dear Hubby, my father, my grandparents, that older sister who was more like a twin, my in-laws and others dear to me.
But although they’ve been taken from this earthly plane, others have joined us and are binding themselves to our hearts:
My little goddaughter, just over a year old, who is more delightful every time I see her. My newest great-niece, born just 10 days ago after months of worry. My son and daughter-in-law’s foster children, young enough to supply Christmas magic for all of us.
Of course, I miss those who are gone as much as I welcome those who have joined us. But I’m thrilled I’m healthy enough to enjoy holiday traditions like caroling with the church choir, loved enough to be invited to holiday celebrations and confident enough to believe my best times are not behind me.
Three more days – with all my gifts bought and wrapped, a ham waiting to become the centerpiece of the family feast and a lovely sense of contentment that is the best gift I could ask for.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
