It’s Christmas Eve, and the rain that is falling now is
expected to turn to snow. Heavy
snow. Until very recently, this would
have caused great angst between me and my husband. You see, my Christmas tradition, from the
time I could remember, was to go to Grandma’s house for Christmas Eve. In the Danish tradition, we had a turkey
dinner with all the trimmings. Dessert
was Danish apple cake, beautifully painted marzipan fruits, and other Danish
goodies that came out only at Christmastime.
And then, best of all, we opened our presents from Grandma and
Grandpa. These Christmas memories are
among my happiest.
When we became adults, my parents became Grandma and Grandpa
and the tradition continued. The only problem
came when the weather was stormy. My
very practical husband made it clear many times that he was not happy I
insisted on driving to Ogden for Christmas Eve unless the roads were officially
closed by the Highway Patrol. That happened
only once in the 33 years we made the trek, but we drove in some pretty
treacherous conditions over the years.
All good things must come to an end. Last year my parents made the decision that
our family had become too large for them to accommodate the huge gathering, and
frankly, they just didn’t have the energy to do it anymore.
After I recovered from nostalgia’s punch in the gut, I
realized that the timing of their decision was actually very good. Our son is married; our daughter will be
soon, and they need to incorporate their life partners in their Christmas
traditions. As for us, we’ve decided
that Christmas Eve will involve a steak dinner and Christmas Candlelight
service. The kids are invited but not
obligated. Tonight it will just be the
two of us. On Christmas morning, our
family and friends will join us for Eggs Benedict. This is our 25+ year tradition.
When I finally graduate to Grandma status (I have faith it
will eventually happen), I suspect we’ll continue to celebrate on Christmas
Day. Our son’s in-laws are of German
descent and celebrate on Christmas Eve.
Our daughter’s in-laws-to-be also celebrate on Christmas Eve. We may move the celebration to one of the
grandkids’ houses. We may not. We’ll face that transition when we come to it
– in the joyful spirit of the one in whose name we celebrate.
Merry Christmas!
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