As my kids get older, get partners, get spouses, get children, get in-laws, and just plain get busy building their own – fiercely independent – life, our Christmas traditions have had to change. Lay the nasty divorce of the past seven years on top of that and this holiday is unlike anything else we’ve been through. This year, my kids and grand kids (at least the 5 kids and three grandchildren who were in town) did our thing on the 24th. This was so they could all be at their own homes on Christmas morning, then go to their in-laws after they were done lovingly lying to their children on Christmas morning about the whole Santa Claus thing. It was amazing! The best word I could use to describe it was calm. No drama, no arguments, and no old grudges leaping out of the depths to ruin the mood. There was laughter, three grand babies fueled by too many Christmas cookies and nervous energy running around, and inside jokes that made “the significants” turn to my kids with a look on their faces that said, “why in the hell is everyone laughing at that? I don’t understand.”. At one point I just sat there, taking in the entire room, listening to the multiple conversations, and soaking up the memories. Now, with a little time to process the day, there are some things that need to be pointed out. “Need” may be the wrong word for whoever is reading this, but at least for me at this moment, I have a need to articulate what I experienced.
There is nothing sweeter, nothing to make you smile faster, and nothing so closely made from pure love as two toddlers giggling with each other. It doesn’t matter what caused it and it doesn’t matter how long it lasts. All that matters is that at the exact moment the giggles start, it is absolutely impossible not to smile. It doesn’t just warm your heart; it reminds your soul that there is still something good in this world and it’s not as far away as you might think.
I’m physically a lot older than I think I am. Yeah, I know that tired, wrinkled, graying face in the mirror should have set me up for a more accurate view of reality, but it clearly hasn’t. I still seem to be struggling with the passage of time. I swear that just yesterday I had a house full of preschoolers, so it still takes me by surprise to realize my babies have had babies. When the grand kids say “Dad?”, they’re looking at someone else, not me. I’m “Papa” and while it feels pretty good to hear that, there’s still that generational distance that constantly surprises me.
Some things move at a glacial pace. Emotional healing is one of those things. It’s like water eroding rock. No one seems to notice anything has happened, until an old picture shows just how deep the rut has become. Slowly, and with a great deal of practice, purpose, and patience, things get better with time. Wounds of the past fade, current life events push old troubles further to the back of the shelf, and things change without much notice. It takes days like this to put things into perspective, where you can assess the current situation, without the filter of all the past injuries, to see just how much healing has occurred. Somewhere at about the two hour mark, I realized my kids are gonna be OK.
My “job” as a parent isn’t exactly done, but the expectations, obligations, and responsibilities that come with the title have changed radically. When the kids were young, they expected their parents to plan everything: When we’d start doing presents, what we’d eat for Christmas dinner, and even the order presents were opened. As parents, we produced the show the kids attended. Now, with grown kids, THEY get to decide all that. It’s not about the traditions I’m used to, it’s all about the traditions they’re building themselves, even if they’re not aware they’re doing it. Now, I’m attending an ongoing show they’re producing, instead of it being the other way around.
Just short of seven years ago, when the whole divorce started, the kids and I spoke of our post-split, post-court hearings, future as “life 2.0”. Without all the ugliness that constantly overshadowed our prior time as a family, I think we all realized that we now had the power/opportunity to start over and make something better. Positive. Less restrictive. Less dysfunctional. Something based on love, not control. As I sat watching my children and grandchildren laugh with each other, actually listen to each other, help each other, and just be at peace with each other, it hit me that life 2.0 has already started. No one fired a starter pistol to signal the beginning, but somehow, we’re already several laps into the new race, on a new track, and looking at a much different view of a much better finish line. Things are going to be alright. My kids are fantastic! They love each other, they’re beautiful inside and out, they’re making good decisions, and they each have a strong moral compass. Most importantly, even after all the insanity they were subjected to throughout their childhood, they still have the capacity to love. Life is so much less stressful now than it was when the floors were covered with eggshells. It’s amazing how things can change when all of a person’s energy doesn’t have to be focused on just surviving the day. My kids and grand kids are healthy. I have new passions, new friends, and new interests that will keep me occupied until it’s my time to go, and I’m not nearly as worried as I had been in the past that my kids will turn out OK. They will, because they already are.
Calm. Yeah, that’s the right word to describe the day. Calm.