I’m not sure why it took me so long to realize this:
I don’t have to be the designated adult for Christmas anymore.
Two more generations of our family now have have jobs, cars, homes, skills, and the ability to secure a meal. Yet, I kept thinking it was my job to do Christmas. I had to host the gathering. And it had to be at a time and place where every person could attend. The pressure!
Public Service Announcement to Women-of-a-Certain Age:
Let it Go
A couple of weeks ago, we had our first family Christmas for the year, and it was perfect. Our daughter and her husband hosted. Delicious food (that none of us cooked!), a lovely setting, great conversation, and a few gifts that made everyone smile but didn’t put anyone into debt.
I’m still smiling at the memory.
This weekend, we will travel to another city where our son and his wife will host a Christmas Eve brunch. Everyone is contributing a little something. (My offering is being delivered from the grocery store freezer section.) I’ve heard we may wear pajamas, and gifts are totally optional.
I know it will be stellar.
We still have some grandbabies and littles in the clan, so of course we don’t expect them to call Uber eats for Christmas dinner. We will still wrap more presents than they need, and we will invite them to our house for stories, games, and more sweets than their parents approve.
I won’t, however, feel the pressure to make sure all their adult cousins can attend at the same time. And, we will probably have store-bought mashed potatoes. (Oh, the decadence!)
Should I have come to this realization sooner?
Probably. My own mother remained the Queen of Christmas long after she became a great-grandmother. I know we wore her out. I also know it is hard to make the transition. “The way we always did it” was wonderful. Magical. Memorable.
The way we do it now is a treasure. I can’t wait to make new traditions and see how the younger generations celebrates the timeless news: “Born this night in the City of David is a Savior, Christ the Lord.”
The only thing we need to hold onto forever is Him.
The next era of the St Nickersons saga. It will be great! Merry CHRISTmas.
Thanks so much, Mel. Merry Christmas to you and yours.
I made that breakfast casserole from scratch with my bare hands. I love this post. I have the opposite problem and have never wanted to be the adult at Christmas, but this “adjust your expectations” thing is gold.
The casserole was delish. We shall not expect it every year. Whatever works.