Christmas Tradition

Song of the Week: Happy Phantom - Tori Amos

I’ve never really thought much about tradition.  In many ways, I suppose I adhere to it.  I generally like consistency, repetition - it eases my anxiety.  Predictability makes life less scary for me.  And family traditions, I’ve always liked them.  I’ve liked feeling anchored, like I’m part of something larger than myself, especially without a partner or kids of my own.  I put a pickle out for Santa - not because of German traditions, but because we decided as kids Santa might want a break from cookies.  At Allie’s house, new traditions include Twinkle Toes the Elf coming to visit for the month of December.  The kids open new pajamas, popcorn, and a movie on Christmas Eve.  It’s how I saw Frozen for the first time.  At my aunt and uncle’s home, the annual tree hunt is quite the endeavor.  Christmas Eve is spent at Pike Place Market with brunch at Lowell’s.  That’s followed by a tour of the lights in downtown Seattle and a look at the competition Gingerbread Houses.  Then shopping for food and flowers for Christmas Day.

I grew up with a tradition of building on the same Christmas chain every year.  When my parents were first married and broke, my mom used Christmas cards to create a decorative chain.  I have memories of sitting around a table, every year, cutting up and assembling the chain from the previous year’s Christmas cards.  My first Christmas with my aunt and uncle I was homesick.  When I woke up on Christmas morning, my uncle had hung a green and red paper chain across my door so it was the first thing I saw. 

I lost caregivers this year.  I lost people who loved me unconditionally - my “Washington Dad” and a sister and best friend whose name I first learned as “Momma Allie.”  For all but a handful, I have spent every Christmas with Allie and/or my uncle.  

Shortly after Allie passed, all I wanted was to decorate for Christmas.  I held off until the start of December.  I bought a tree, and brought the decorations up from the basement.  I stood in my living room with memories and traditions packed in a box.  Two thirds of the ornaments on the tree are from my aunt and uncle.  They give their kids, grandkids, and great grandkids an ornament every year.  I’ve received one ever since my first Christmas with them (as an adult.)  A few others are from Allie and the kids.  I leaned on the dining room table and sobbed.  It was the first of what has become a daily tradition.

A dear friend came and helped me decorate, something I couldn’t emotionally do alone.  She finished the tree for me.  She sat and cut strips for my Christmas chain. Christmas cards are less of a tradition these days, so I save all my birthday cards.  This year there were a few condolence cards as well.  It was hard to cut up the cards from those I love, to know the handwriting from my grandparents, my uncle, and Allie won’t be coming in the mail anymore.  So I keep reminding myself that the Christmas chain is a great place to keep their memories.  

Maybe some year at Christmastime I won’t cry every day.  Maybe I won’t always feel this pain in my chest from their absence. I do understand the physical feeling of heartbreak now. But I suppose all this pain stems from one beautiful fact - how much they deeply loved me, and how special my life is from loving them back.

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