Breaking Tradition

I don't like to be so wound up in traditions that the universe will become totally unbalanced if life throws me a curve ball and plans are altered. I like traditions. I like familiarity, and I like knowing what to expect. In the pre-Christmas hoopla this year, though, we've done a few things differently...well, we've not done them at all.

Each year, for as long as I can remember, we've gone to see the bank choir sing Christmas carols downtown. It was the Texas Commerce Bank choir, then something else I think, and since the last corporate merger, it has been the Chase Bank Choir. Their music is magical. It will fill the achiest heart with pounding delight. I loved watching and listening to them as a child, and I think I love it even more now that I am a grown up! We usually don't call it a day until we've dined at Treebeards at the Church downtown for lunch. Chili, no onions, but yes on the cheese and rice...and bread...and a peanut butter cookie with a Hershey kiss topper. I do like familiarity.

This year, no choir. No chili. No cookie.

My mom says that this has been going on since I was in a baby buggy, but I am not sure when exactly it began. My dad and I shop, every Christmas Eve, together. We've bought my mom countless nightgowns (it's quite hilarious when store workers see my father and I perusing the nightclothes), a crystal lamp (that was a good one, but we crisscrossed town so many times that we both got in trouble when we got home so late), various things from Specs, and complete outfits from Talbots, Chicos, and other establishments. We used to have lunch at the Chinese restaurant in the Galleria until it closed. We moved to the LaMadeleine for a few years, sushi one year, I think, and then the crepe place last year. We'd sum up the goings-on from the year that would soon be coming to a close. Mom would USUALLY return all of her gifts. Even in the hustle and bustle of our marathon trips home when we lived in Lubbock, we'd block off the time and go together.

This year, we didn't. Work was overly hectic for dad, and as it turned out, Michael was running a fever. Life stepped in our way. It was just as well, though. Neither one of us would have enjoyed it much this year--he being burdened by client catastrophes, and me being worried about my baby. I guess this will be the year that wasn't. I can't say that I am angry or upset with my dad because I am not. I am sad that life did find a way to stomp on both of our plans, but it would ruin the spirit of the trip's meaning if I were angry.

This evening, we all crossed paths at Nathan's school/church for his second performance as a Wise Man. He yawned a lot up there, but he was the cutest wise man I've ever known. I am glad that all of his grandparents were able to come and cheer him on. That was great.

So, as of thirty seconds ago, all of my ducklings are tucked into bed. We've learned to downplay Santa's coming on Christmas Eve because Nathan got REALLY worked up one year and the more we tried to get him to sleep, the more stressed out and worried he became. It was when he was really little, and we had never before (in his memory) let some stranger into our home in the middle of the night. How could we be so trusting?

Soon the Christmas lights will come down, and the ornaments will be packed up for another 11 month hybernation in the attic. My boys make this time of the year just MAGIC! It is such a gift to just have each other happy and healthy, and together. I know there are so many people whose holidays are less than perfect. People struggle with loss, they struggle with burdens, they struggle with pain. I hope they may find peace and a glimmer of hope tonight.

Merry Christmas.