Denial: A Page in my Christmas Book

The boxes are down from the attic, stacked in haphazard fashion in the garage and waiting to be refilled.

I am not ready.

For seven weeks and three days, Christmas has filled this house. Santa, baby Jesus and all of their various snowmen and reindeer friends have been happily perched on shelves, hanging from the tree or just chilling out on top of the piano.

Last night we finally took the tree down, only because the garbage man will pick it up today.

Everything else remains.

I am not ready.

Not ready for these holidays when the kids are so old that Santa’s magic no longer has any power…when nobody believes they heard reindeer on the rooftop as they snuggled in their beds.

I love our Christmas traditions — cutting down our tree at the same farm each year, decorating it together. The unwrapping of each ornament and my incessant need to tell the story of each and every one. Again.

Homemade cinnamon rolls Christmas morning…gingerbread houses carefully decorated with all-things-sugary, only to be eaten later in chunks.

I love how my teens still expect certain things to remain the same about Christmas, even without the magic of Santa.

But there was a shift this season — ever so slight — and I felt it in my heart. My family is growing and changing, and while it’s amazing and awesome and wonderful?

There are days when I would gladly take a page from my Christmas Memories Book and have a do-over.

Like the year I found out I was pregnant on Christmas morning, but kept the secret all day long as we watched our 3-year-old son open presents and laugh.

Or the year Santa brought the huge dollhouse bookcase for my daughter that was taller than she was.

Maybe the year when we sat on the couch with grandparents — all showered, ready for presentsĀ and drinking our coffee — while little ones somehow slept way past their usual wakeup time.

This book — my Christmas Memories Book — has one page left.

One page.

Nineteen years of these memories fill this book and flood my heart when I open it.

And now? I need to fill in that one last page.

I am not ready.

I will buy another book — maybe even another with 20 years to fill. And I will cherish each page as they are filled with the new memories of our growing family…a family that will still hold dear to old traditions while the kids bring in something new each year. A friend, someone special, a spouse one day, maybe a grandchild or two.

I think I will be ready by then.

Comments

  1. Beautiful post, Sherri.

  2. I’m never ready to put Christmas away either, there’s something so very special about the holidays season. Especially with children in the house.

    This was (as usual) beautiful, heartfelt and thoughtful.

    Your memory book (and mind) are such a gift.

  3. Beautiful post as always! My youngest (10) announced this year that she was no longer a Santa believer. It was sad for the whole family. And Christmas felt SO different. In some ways easier (didn’t have to worry as much about “blowing it”). But infinitely less magical. The traditions will always remain and it’s a special time of year regardless.

  4. A Christmas memories book! What a beautiful idea and a beautiful post. I have a feeling that your house still holds the magic of Christmas. Just a different kind of magic. šŸ™‚

  5. Aww.. I love this post, Sherri. And I do hope that your new book continues to fill with memories that will also ‘flood your heart’.

    Also, happy 2013!! I haven’t said that to you this year!