Christmas Eve was a day full of last minute preparations for Christmas Day-we were all so excited that the big day was almost here!
But Christmas Day was a bit of a perfect storm brewing. A few months ago a sister that I visit teach- a mother of seven- told me that she always has some kind of meltdown on Christmas Day. The overwhelming emotions that come with trying so hard to please everyone and to get just the right presents and have the picture perfect Christmas Day- it all finally gets to her, she has a little meltdown, and then she gets on with the reality of the day.
There is a legendary story in my family about the year that my parents gave me a cute shirt on Christmas morning, then later that day told me I had to give it back to my older sister (who was home visiting from college) because it actually belonged to her. The story goes that on Christmas Eve night my mom gathered all of the gifts that she had purchased for each of her five kids only to find that my pile was significantly smaller than those of my siblings. So she borrowed my sister's shirt, ironed it out, wrapped it up, and later told me it signified a shopping trip later in the month. Of course, as a 15-year old brat, I didn't get it. Instead seeing any of the effort, I just saw what was lacking.
But let me say, I get it now! The effort of Christmas- all of the planning and shopping and wrapping and listening to wish lists and transporting of gifts and coordinating with Santa who gets what and who it's being given from, oh I get it now. It's is all in the name of wanting to create that perfect Christmas morning, and it's exhausting.
The perfect Christmas morning was not be had in our family this year. I'm not sure if it started with the final letter written to Santa on Christmas Eve ("Dear Santa- Please bring me a Tinkerbell make-up kit"... I had already spoken with Santa and I knew that was not what he was bringing in his sack)
Whatever the reason, the magic of Christmas morning and the manifestation of love that generally abounds as you find yourself filled with peace on earth and goodwill toward men did not appear until after we went to church.
Maybe that was the Lord's way of reminding us what we really were celebrating.
When we got home from church, we changed back into our jammies, snuggled up together, and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of family togetherness, the sharing of blessings (and more presents!), and the abundance of love that we have for each other. And suddenly, it was the perfect Christmas after all.
Everyone had a favorite present- Jason's was the cooking class at our favorite local restuarant and Purdue apron I made in secret.
Mine was a tie between my new family growth chart and the Reader's Digest Christmas Songbook (the best compilation on Christmas music out there).
Leah's was her beloved cupcake piggy bank- a blog post topic for another day.
1 comment:
I had that same melt down on Christmas morning, when E declared that the doll Santa brought wasn't the carriage she asked for. Good to know I'm not alone!
Post a Comment