It’s November. The colors and flavors tell me that it will soon be cold, and the days will be slower. It’s also that time of year when many of my friends start hearing from relatives about holiday plans. I listened intently as they made plans to work and please all the involved parties. I have sat and thought about how lucky I am not to have to deal with all of that, while simultaneously feeling a bit jealous that I didn't get to share it. And I remember last year, as I gathered for coffee with several of these women, I thought about them taking their holidays back. So, if you are approaching a time of year that you dread, this one is for you.
I met my husband 23 years ago, and his parents were already living in Portugal. Shortly after we met, his son moved to Arkansas. I grew up in a divorced family that tolerated each other for holidays, so there was never any drama. I have never had to share my holidays or work with someone else’s schedule.
I grew up celebrating on Christmas Day. We would gather on Christmas Eve at grandparents', cousins', or friends’ for dinner. But the real magic happened at home on Christmas morning. I always remember the slow mornings, wearing pajamas, and the background scent of coffee brewing because Mom and Dad had drunk too many grasshoppers the night before. The photos recall the sleep in my eyes as I tore through paper, just like a hungry raccoon tearing through trash. Those Christmases were ours—my parents, my brother, and I. We never had to rush to get dressed and be anywhere. Some years, relatives from out of state would come and visit us. We would open gifts, laugh, enjoy food, love each other’s company, and have a special Christmas dinner. Now I can see that it took my mom way too long to make and even longer to clean up, but I do remember Dad in the kitchen with her.
When my husband and I met, we both loved how it worked out. His uncle and aunt, who are the patriarch and matriarch of the Trigo family, always hosted a large Christmas Eve dinner. We gathered with our nieces, nephews, his brothers, cousins, aunts, and uncles and opened gifts, ate great food, played games, drank a little too much vino, ha ha. My mom and brother were even invited to join in. One year, I even brought my dad. Tio and Tia, those years in your home on Christmas Eve are some of my most favorite memories and times I'll never forget. As the family grew larger and the kids started having children, we decided to stay closer to home and remain in town by visiting my brother-in-law’s house on Christmas Eve and then returning home for Christmas Day.
When the twins were babies and toddlers, we spent Christmas Eve at his uncle's and then at his brother's, which was just five minutes away. However, COVID brought us home. And our Christmas mornings got smaller and larger all at once. We lost grandma, dad, and then mom. We were blessed with a daughter and a son.
Those first years …oh boy. Seeing the magic in their eyes, getting to pass on all the traditions, the baking, the singing, the flavors, all of it to your children must make the Christmas magic grow even deeper in your heart. Thinking now if the Grinch had children, how different that movie would be, ha ha. But surely the magic ignites when you get to pass it down when you are creating someone else’s childhood. You bless them with the memories you enjoyed as a child and leave out the parts you disliked. Or at least that’s every parent’s goal, right? Christmas as a mother was such a gift from the lord. One that I can continue to unwrap every year, every season, and each age brings with it new, unopened parts of the gift, and the same level of excitement I had on those first Christmas mornings when I was a child. Becoming a mother and celebrating holidays is truly magical. My husband jumped right in and bought every blow-up; he lit every bulb he could find. True Griswold fashion came to life before my eyes when he became a father at Christmas time.
Christmas for my husband and me has always been fantastic. We have always looked forward to the end of the year, when the world slows down, and we can celebrate the birth of Jesus. We get to reflect not only on our year, but also on our family’s year and the world. We can slow down and enjoy these sacred moments a bit more, knowing that people leave the table and others show up, and we never know who or when that time will be. Another blessing during this time of year is that we have a huge FRAMILY. The ones we pick to raise our children with. The people who are there on a Tuesday soccer game or a Monday gymnastics performance. The ones that show up and become a part of the family. The moments with them are so special this time of year. I am so grateful that, even though our parents have not been a part of our holidays, we have had some incredible moments, ones I can look back on and smile at.
I am so grateful for this. I will have to tell my husband as soon as I am done writing about how fantastic our holidays have been. That being said. There has also been a lonely, quiet part to our holidays. There has never been a home to go back to. There is no bedroom we grew up in waiting for our arrival with a bed made up for the holidays. There have never been grandparents to share the celebrations with. There has not been any bickering or demanding of someone else’s way because there just hasn’t been someone else. His parents lived in another country, and mine were with us for just a while. After the twins were born, it was just my brother and me, and occasionally his family, for the holidays.
So, while we had coffee last year, I listened to and shared with my friends. I shared how lucky they are to have the family that they have still around. But I also advised them to take their holidays back. These are the moments in your family that your children remember, and why should you share them because of blood? Maybe it’s because of my unique situation, but in my opinion, if someone's mother or mother-in-law is not in their life on a day-to-day, weekly, or monthly basis, why should they get a say or dictate how the holidays are spent?
Too many relatives are forcing plans on their children. Let your children make plans. Let your children invite you or not. Remember, this is their family. Maybe they want to stay home in pajamas for Christmas morning, or not rush. You could consider hosting a Christmas Eve dinner and letting them have that special day, or give them space on Christmas Eve and ask how you can bless them with a Christmas dinner. I know one day I will be a parent. I will want the invitation. I only pray that I remember how lovely my holidays were, because my husband and I got to celebrate as we wished to, not as someone else thought we should.
I am not asking you, ladies and gentlemen, to be rude or cruel to your families. I am asking you to take back your holidays. To remember these are the times. Only on Christmas mornings will you spend time with your little ones. What is it you and your spouse want? Do that and have the rest fall around it. If the relative doesn’t like that plan, that’s ok, there’s always the New Year's dinner. But stop letting them make you feel guilty. They are not there in the day-in and day-out moments of this, so why give them the most special moments? We have time, ladies, to take this season and shape it around what we truly want. It is awkward, and it is hard. I am not telling you to do something I haven’t done myself. However, it’s on a smaller scale. I took back my Christmas morning last year.
Since we had twins, their grandparents have not been in the picture. We shared our holidays with my younger brother. My brother was a bachelor who had neither married nor had children of his own. He has been there each holiday since we had twins. Some of them we had to wait for him to arrive, some of them we had to wait for him to wake up. Last year, we decided as a family that we wanted to have Christmas morning just the four of us: Mom, Dad, sister, and brother. We let Uncle know that, as much as we love him, we only have a few more years of Christmas mornings with our children, and we want those to ourselves. He was there for the first nine. The tenth Christmas morning was just ours, and it was magical. There was no waiting for uncle, and it was a special time. Did we miss him? Of course. We didn’t cut him out completely as my daughter pointed out, “it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without uncle”. We took back our Christmas morning and invited him over for Christmas dinner. And you know what. It was amazing. We had our special time, and we still got to celebrate with family that we love.
I promise it will be awkward, I promise it will be hard. But I promise it’s going to be worth it in the end to spend this year your way. Your holidays are the way you envision them. The extra seats are just that extra. So, although they are part of our history, they are not the whole story, and your story begins now. Will you go another year silently screaming and listening to Aunt Edith’s story she tells every year, while you smile and nod at your spouse, or will you be snuggled up watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” with him and your babies?
Either way, coffee soon.
Photo credit: ©GettyImages/svetikd
