As I look at my small artificial Christmas tree decorated with ornaments from my mother's growing up years, mine, and my children's, I realize rituals change as life changes.
One of my favorite holiday photos is when my daughter was about three years old, and she was kneeling in front of the Christmas tree she had just put the topper on (with the help of her dad). The tree was six-foot-plus and very bushy - the kind you can tuck the lights and ornaments into. There were lots of packages under the tree, and she was just looking up at the tree full of lights and ornaments.
For years we would go to a lot and pick a tree, a tall bushy tree. There were years when the trees were smaller due to finances, but we always had a cut real tree. With lots of packages under it.
The family grew and shrank over the years, with marriages and divorces, and now has stabilized to three kids, one kid's lady, and three grandchildren - and my significant other.
My little tree has presents for two under it this year, since the kids and grandkids are scattered to the four winds, and I no longer live in the same state as my older two children.
So traditions like stockings, opening a small present on Christmas Eve, and making cinnamon rolls for breakfast on Christmas morning have changed. No more stockings, no more small gift on Christmas Eve to appease anxious children, but I still make the Pillsbury cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. This year, there will only be three of us gathered together. And that's okay.
Children grow up, families change, as does life.
And that is a gift unto itself.
Namaste!
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