Nothing embodies the Comfort Zone like tradition and routine. And nothing embodies routine and tradition like the Holidays. Most of my challenges involve deliberately moving outside of the zone. But occasionally the zone itself dissipates, leaving me with no choice but to step out and explore the world outside of it.
I have always held a special fondness for wonder. My love for the theatre, my attraction to Disney, all are variations on a theme. A longing for wonder. The ability to set aside the mundane of the everyday and raise ourselves up through the sheer force of imagination and belief - that is the root of wonder.
During the holiday season, the pursuit of wonder becomes a communal event. People who deny magic throughout the balance of the year embrace the season, dressing their houses in lights, celebrating with friends and family, and taking the kids to sit on Santa’s lap. It’s a time when community, friends and family come together, each with their own traditions and routine that bring continuity and remind us of Christmases past, present and yet to come.
Still, as life’s circumstances change, our holiday traditions evolve along with them. When I found myself single, I had to re-examine how I spent Christmas. For the last fifteen years, my daughter came to my apartment on Christmas Eve. We decorated my tree and hung stockings. Sometimes we would watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” or “Christmas Vacation”. One year she had been reading “A Christmas Carol”, and had just gotten to the final chapters - when Scrooge is shown Christmas yet to come, and Erin asked me to read the end of the book to her.
The next morning we got up, checked our stockings, had breakfast and opened presents. Then her mom would pick her up for Christmas with her family. I was part of that family for twenty years, with three little sisters whom I love dearly, and while I was at the time not comfortable taking part in their traditional holiday, I was not willing to just walk away simply because I as no longer married to their sister. So I established the tradition of the Boxing Day Brunch - when my former in-laws gather at my place on December 26th. Preparing for the brunch also gave me something to do with the bulk of my Christmas Day.
And this has been Ron’s Christmas.
This year I unexpectedly found myself in a state of holiday flux once again. My daughter, now an adult, held to our Christmas routine through high school and college, and even beyond. This year, however, a new element came into our plans.
The fiancè.
I have always encouraged Erin to move forward. I feel that my job has been to give her the tools to build her own life and then let her do it. I also understand a young couple setting their own traditions in place - I did the same as a newlywed. So when Erin told me that she and Zac would come over on Christmas Eve and then go home to have Christmas morning by themselves, I completely understood.
Boxing Day has changed as well. As the sisters have grown and spread up and down the west coast, attendance has fluctuated from as many as sixteen - a rather cozy gathering in my small apartment - to just four for the past couple of years. I love doing my brunch, but wonder if the original intent hasn’t been lost.
I find myself facing a choice, one I’m sure many at my stage in life have stumbled across. The holiday seasons I have enjoyed in the past manifest less and less as the people in my life change and find their own paths. They have not left me behind or set me aside, they are simply moving through their own lives, in which I am a small, moveable part. I am left, as always, to take this challenge as either an excuse to become embittered or an opportunity to examine and redefine my outlook.
So we wonder. What will Christmas look like in my years to come?
We'll see...
The fiancè.
I have always encouraged Erin to move forward. I feel that my job has been to give her the tools to build her own life and then let her do it. I also understand a young couple setting their own traditions in place - I did the same as a newlywed. So when Erin told me that she and Zac would come over on Christmas Eve and then go home to have Christmas morning by themselves, I completely understood.
Boxing Day has changed as well. As the sisters have grown and spread up and down the west coast, attendance has fluctuated from as many as sixteen - a rather cozy gathering in my small apartment - to just four for the past couple of years. I love doing my brunch, but wonder if the original intent hasn’t been lost.
I find myself facing a choice, one I’m sure many at my stage in life have stumbled across. The holiday seasons I have enjoyed in the past manifest less and less as the people in my life change and find their own paths. They have not left me behind or set me aside, they are simply moving through their own lives, in which I am a small, moveable part. I am left, as always, to take this challenge as either an excuse to become embittered or an opportunity to examine and redefine my outlook.
So we wonder. What will Christmas look like in my years to come?
We'll see...