Like so many others, I am a product of a marriage that ended in divorce.
I don’t remember many Christmases with my parents together, but I do remember finding an open restaurant on Christmas Day to do the annual switch after we had opened presents at my mom’s house.
Now, I consider myself very lucky. My parents have always gotten along, even in the early days of their divorce, so the meetings were always pleasant. I remember one year we met at Annie’s Pancake House; that was my favorite. They had life-sized Ren and Stimpy dolls outside.
These were my Christmas memories.
Over the past few years and meeting my husband, I have been trying to create the perfect Christmas. Before my brother-in-law Dylan died, he stayed with us for the holidays so the first few years of Charles and I being together, I really strived for total perfection. I wanted the Hallmark movie moment that I didn’t have as a kid.
I tried to shop for the best presents and make sure everything was nicely decorated and perfectly lit.
One of the best things that came from me trying to create this perfect Christmas memory was a tradition we’ve started of Charles and I hosting Christmas Eve dinner. See, we live about an hour away from most of his family and we are the travelers. We’re always going to their house for events with the kids or to watch the weekend’s football games.
But on Christmas Eve, it’s the one time of year where everyone comes to us. I usually cook a feast with twice baked potatoes, fresh green beans, corn pudding, roast beef — the works. I make sure there’s a selection of desserts and everyone has a tree perfectly picked out for them.
This year, though — this year is a little different.
As most of you know Dylan died about 18 months ago, and holidays have never quite been the same. My husband especially doesn’t have the fervor he once did to create the perfect Christmas memory, because, well, without Dylan, it doesn’t really exist.
However, that’s what I’ve come to realize is so important about Christmas. It’s not about the perfect Christmas memory or the best Christmas gift; it’s about those moments you don’t plan and the times you don’t expect.
You can’t plan those Ren and Stimpy kind of memories. You can’t schedule them or put them in a Christmas calendar; they just happen. They are the ones that stick with you a lifetime, and you never expect them to.
One of my favorite Christmas memories involved running around my hometown with my brother at midnight Christmas Eve dropping off miniature football helmets for people to discover the next morning. It wasn’t planned; it was just something fun to do and we turned into our own little Christmas elves.
And when preparing for that magical Christmas Eve dinner this year, I decided to do something a little different — get it catered.
So remember when you’re planning your Christmas festivities, it’s OK if not everything is perfect. It’s OK if there’s a few dirty clothes in the hamper or the baseboards haven’t been cleaned. No one will remember exactly what you cooked or how many desserts were on your table. What they’ll remember is the time you create together.
Lizi Arbogast Gwin is the managing editor of Tallapoosa Publishers Inc. She can be reached at 434-962-9420 or via email at lizi.gwin@alexcityoutlook.com.
