After moving my mother-in-law into an assisted living facility this past spring, my family helped organize, clean, and empty her home. Let me tell you, this activity teared us right up. From 4th grade through high school, my husband lived in this home. Since 1993, when David and I began dating, this home welcomed me with the widest arms. Our kids — military kids who’ve lived in several states and across one ocean — knew this home to be a fixed point of familiarity amidst constant change. Chock-full of good memories, this home has been a source of comfort and consistency for all of us, and we were rather tender to the thought of telling it goodbye.
After a few interior updates, David and his siblings put the house on the market. This fall, it sold. In one way, it was a relief and a gift to know the house would bless another family as it had ours. In another way, it was a bigger loss, one that solidified the fact that we won’t spend any more holidays or regular days in that home.
While I love Colorado and the life we’ve made here, I occasionally still get homesick for the towering oak trees and tumbling creeks of the Oklahoma prairie where I grew up.
And now, I miss a home that’s no longer in the family.
I’m someone who builds strong attachments to people, yes. But I’ve learned I’m a girl who builds strong attachments to places as well. I can find myself so homesick for a place it makes me heartsick. With Christmas less than a month away, I feel this all the more acutely.
Because of this difficult change and a dozen others recently experienced, I know I stand at the end of an era.
While I’ve undoubtedly seen the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living over the past several years, it’s also been several years of arriving to December feeling like I’ve finished a year-long marathon. Losses have built up over time, and this Christmas season, I’m tired as can be.
Last year, I wrote about how much I’d love for Real Life to take a vacation during Christmas. After all, it interferes with my Christmas “Land of the Sugar Plum Fairies” magic and merry. This year, I don’t need Real Life to take a vacation as much as I need my own Christmas expectations to take a vacation. Because your girl here? She can shoot some sky-high expectations on experiences and people. Most of all, I pile them on myself and then get mighty disappointed when my expectations meet my human limitations, especially at Christmastime.
In light of this, I’m intentionally mitigating my expectations this season. That is, with so much life change, I’m changing and minimizing what I expect this Christmas so that I make room to celebrate – –to enjoy! — my actual Christmas. Here’s what that looks like for me:
1. Choosing my family’s favorite traditions and letting the rest go. When big changes are the way of life, I typically double down on my traditions because they are touchpoints of familiarity amidst the flux. At this time of year, I’m inclined to bake a dozen different treats. I want to watch the Village Seven Presbyterian Christmas Concert. I want to decorate to the hilt. I want to see every neighborhood’s Christmas decorations. And truly, I love doing every one of those things — but they aren’t the most important things to my family. Because of my decreased bandwidth this year, there will be less doing of every extra tradition to make room for more enjoyment of the traditions we choose.
To read other ways I’m changing Christmas expectations, please visit my second online writing home, (in)courage. Or, if you prefer to listen to this article as its read, visit here.
Could someone you know benefit from encouragement through her difficult life change? This can help, and it would make a beautiful Christmas gift, too.
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