Christmas--Same As Ever, But Different

  

It might be because I don't recall having any particular traditions associated with Christmas growing up. We had the tree and presents, and when we moved to Germany, we spent Christmas Eve with my grandparents and had mulled wine and cookies, but otherwise I don't recall anything in particular that I associate with the Christmasses of my childhood. Anyway, I think that this is why I was so set on creating traditions with my kids, and we have held onto most of them through the years, despite the fact that I am no longer the devout Catholic convert I was. I don't even consider myself as practicing any religion these days, yet the trappings of Catholicism remain a part of Christmas for our household. 

The oldest one since my kids were born was going to Mass on Christmas Eve, and this year I chose to stay home to set out the buffet that has become tradition in the last few years. It made the evening far less stressful for me, as I had three hours to prepare the hors d'oeuvres and set things out instead or rushing to do it all after Mass. 

The kids are now, for the most part, young adults now. My eldest son moved to Chicago this year and couldn't make it home. My youngest son was spending Christmas Eve with his girlfriend and her family and did come home, but much later, after the food was put away. 

I made only 10 of the 12 varieties of cookies I bake--have baked--every Christmas for a couple decades now. I don't bake cookies the rest of the year, so I go mad at Christmas and a lot of friends, family and neighbors receive cookies from me. 

The kids no longer wake up at the crack of dawn on Christmas day. I remember rather fondly when they did. The house would be still dark, lit only by the lights on the Christmas tree, the fairy lights over the nativity scene, and candles. I would put on one of my favorite Christmas CDs (Sing We Christmas, by Chanticleer), and the kids would stop at the nativity scene to welcome baby Jesus before rushing to see the presents under the tree and dump the contents of their stockings on the carpet to see what they got and to wait for the rest of their siblings to awaken. 

I'm glad we had those traditions. Their repetition has set them firmly in my memory. But life is change, and I'm not unhappy with the changes (other than missing a couple of kids). There will come a time, I suppose, when I may end up spending Christmas on my own, or as a guest in the home of one of my kids. I might not bake a million cookies or string a mess of foil-wrapped chocolate coins to hang on the tree along with the ornaments; I might not have the half-dozen holiday related lists (on top of the half-dozen lists I normally have for myself!): the baking list, the card list, the gift list, the Christmas Eve buffet list... I'm okay with slowing down. I have come to realize that my real motivation for going nuts to make Christmas 'perfect' is a dread of disappointing my kids. But I realize, too, that my kids will love me no less if Christmas isn't perfect. If the the large burner on my cooktop won't boil water and I have to serve roasted potatoes instead of the potato dumplings I made to accompany the pork roast, which happened Christmas day...

I've already made the memories, for them and for myself. Wherever life takes us, whatever future Christmases look like, we'll always have them memories of some near-perfect Christmases.