Controlling Christmas

It's been quite a holiday season. There's been everything from seeing Jesus Christ Superstar to fighting sickness to partying on a holiday party bus to announcing a reorganization at work to fighting sickness (again) to hosting Christmas for the first time.

It's been a mix of wonderment, fun, illness, anxiety, excitement, and... a bit of sadness.

Last weekend, I had somewhat of a breakdown. It seemed that a simple cold had pushed me over the edge of this sensory-laden season. My hubby knew better. After some empathetic questioning, he forced me into an epiphany. It's an epiphany he's tried to help me see almost since the day we said I do. Here it is:

I can't control everything.

Ghosts of Christmas Past

No matter how right I think I am. (I had to modify that sentence. It originally stated "no matter how right I am.)

I can't control everything.

It's s difficult mantra, me thinks, particularly when a mother has to accept that her children are technically adults.

Alex had to work the days before and after Christmas, so she wouldn't make it home for our favorite family holiday. I get this. That's why I asked her to look into a plane ticket that would bring her back just for one day. I'd pay! Even Alex wouldn't let me purchase the $800 ticket. "Mom, I'll be home the following week." Sigh. Okay.

Cole has hardly given any notice of his gifts under the tree. There's not one sign of wrapping paper rips. There's been no counting the number of boxes. I keep coaxing him, but he won't even shake his presents! Either he's spoiled because he has everything already, which is a very distinct possibility. Or, he's eighteen. Sigh. Okay.

We celebrated Christmas Eve at my parents house, performing the usual fun rituals like eating, playing games and watching a good old-fashioned holiday movie like Animal House. But it was sans Alex. So we sent her a loving video message just before leaving for the midnight Mass, which was incredibly lovely and beyond peaceful. But it was missing an important element: the sound of my daughter's voice singing Silent Night next to me in the pew. After the service, Cole told us that we had a video message from Alex. "Mom, you're gonna cry." And I did. It was our lovely 22-year-old telling us how much she missed us and couldn't wait to come home. While it broke my heart, it also made me just a little bit happy. She still loves us.

A rare frown. Still adorable.

The next day was a blessing as we hosted Christmas on the Kramer side this year. Instead of wallowing in self-pity about how our kids are growing up, I was busily distracted with things like food, wondering how we would get my sister-in-law's locked keys out of her car (along with the chicken tortilla soup), strategizing on how to get the alcoholic white elephants, and being completely entertained by Carson, part of the newest generation of cuteness. And Alex showed up after all! Via Facetime, albeit. But she was there, showing off the lovely Frida Kahlo painting her roommate had given her.

Families grow up, expand and relocate. Thank goodness for Facetime and family group texts with funny GIFs of Elf and Cousin Eddie. Holiday traditions may transform, but we still manage to connect and show our love for each other. That, my friends, is what we can control. As a matter of fact, it's probably the only thing worth controlling.

Hope your holidays were magical.