Countdown to Christmas 2025….Day 11
Yesterday I opened the topic of traditions and how we love them and yet mourn when the time has passed to carry them on.
In practicality, if your tradition is that you always go to your home of origin on a set time very year, eventually there will be another family (or families) who has to work around that. If the tradition means your parents host, then you miss the opportunity to make traditions for your kids in your own home.
It is a sticky trail, these traditions and so it seems, holding them lightly may be the best option as when we have to flex and adapt to change, there are delights we never dreamed of on our own.
When we brought my parents and aunt to Decatur in the summer of 2003, I was barely keeping my head above water that fall as we navigated Rachel’s sophomore year in college, Sarah’s sophomore year in high school and John’s first year of Jr. High.
The holidays rolled around and by then my dad was in a memory care facility, my aunt was in assisted living and my mom had a little apartment where she enjoyed fellowship of meals and activities while living independently.
My aunt’s stepson let us know he planned to come for Christmas. Up to that point I had seen him less times than I have fingers on one hand to count. We would have many changes and none of us were sure how it would all work out.
We had our usual Christmas breakfast, opened stockings and gifts and then advanced into making Christmas happen for our extended family and guest.
We prepared a cooler of Christmas treats, a basket of presents and loaded up our van with three wonderful young people who never did anything but change from their pjs to dress clothes and smile their way through lovingly adapting to this new family dynamic.
Jim brought my aunt, we nabbed my mom and off we went to a garden room at the care facility to have the best Christmas we could given the circumstances.
After the visit, we came back to the house and put on a Christmas dinner for all but my dad. His Alzheimer was best managed by those trained for it at that point. It was hard for my mom, but she knew it was best.
Our kids were sweet and made conversation, helped serve and clean up and of course Russ was the glue that held it all together.
We did this every year until my mom passed in 2008.
The memory that rises up often when I think about this period in our family life is not how we lost our own tradition, but all the sweet and unexpected ways God showed up for us as we navigated a new normal.
One in particular happened the first or second year of our new “tradition”.
As I was putting the last of the dishes away, everyone was gathered in the family room area. It had been a long day and we weren’t sure how much longer our guests could carry on awkward conversation.
Then I heard Sarah ask my mom if she would like to watch “A Knight’s Tale.” If you had teens in the house in those days, you will remember this Heath Ledger classic that we had all watched enough times we could recite most of the lines.
I prayed fervently my mother would decline, but instead my heart gripped as she told Sarah she would enjoy very much watching a movie with her.
I racked my brain for how this quirky comedy would work with the audience gathered.
While the more inappropriate parts are mild in comparison to the family friendly fare of today, I was dreading my mother’s reaction when the Chaucer character would saunter across our living room screen in nothing but a saucy attitude.
I had nothing to fear.
My mom laughed through the whole movie. She caught on to all the humor that it holds. She loved it and thanked Sarah repeatedly for such a fun evening.
While others debate if Elf or Miracle on 34th Street or It’s a Wonderful Life is the best Christmas movie, my choice will forever and always be….A Knight’s Tale <3