The Tradition of Family

When Rob gave us the little push on Sunday to be brave and speak about a story, he was describing me when he suggested "maybe you think 'my story isn't special'". I thought the purpose of the Advent blog was to detail how selfless acts were done during the holidays, or to highlight a noble act done as a family. I'm not saying my family are savages, but I also don't have a memory of surrendering our day to help in a soup kitchen (though I wish we would have and I think it's a phenomenal idea!) But my family does have traditions. And I value them, and the time. So...if these submissions really don't have to be spectacular...here goes.

Christmas Eve has gone the same since I could form memories. (well, we don't put out milk and cookies for Santa anymore, but you get the idea.) We, as a family, open one gift on Christmas Eve, and they are always pajamas. I can't give you an explanation as to why. Perhaps it was for a new feeling of comfort and relaxation each year. Or maybe it was just for fun pictures the next day, because once we opened the present, we wore the pjs to bed, and opened all gifts and stockings still in them the next morning. After we each got new sleepwear (believe or not, we are always excited about the upcoming pjs. We even request the kinds we might like on our "lists".) my father reads the Christmas Story. The four of us (my mom, my sister, my father and I) sit close together while he reads from Luke 2:1-16. For a while, when my sister and I were young, and even sometimes during high school if my memory serves me correctly, my mother would proceed my father's reading by reading The Night Before Christmas. We had the golden book version and loved seeing the pictures and hearing the words. (Then my father would tell the true story by reading from Luke.)

Christmas day, we usually wake and begin by opening our stockings first (I sometimes argue that this is the best part, digging for the little surprises, each of us taking turns watching the other, to see what they will find). Then we watch each other open presents; it was never a free for all, ripping in unison. We took joy in seeing the response for whatever we could afford for presents that year. Even the small things were appreciated. And as we all get older into our adult lives, we know that it never was about those presents. I vividly remember, two years ago, sitting with my family in Missouri with my nephew there smiling. He who had just survived major, heart-valve reconstructive surgery that we were never promised he'd survive from. It was my mom, my dad, my sister, my brother-in-law, my miraculous nephew, and me -- watching traditions continue. I shed tears, silently while overcome with the joy of being together. I don't even remember what anyone got that day or what anyone asked for. I was filled with such love, it just overflowed. This year, my mom has been worried, because traditions are falling to the wayside with the lack of finances. We couldn't do annual ornaments (another tradition for each family member), and the pjs probably won't come this year. But while on the phone with her as she revealed these likelihoods, I never blinked. I immediately assured her, that who cared about that? At all? We get to be together (as corny, but completely true as it is) and even if we only do the $1 filled stockings, we'll have a great time. Last year we didn't all get to celebrate together, the year before that our little Gabe was given back to us, this year we'll have a newborn with us again as my 2nd nephew (Gabe's little brother) will be introduced to the world 3 days before the holiday. There isn't much more we could want or ask for, is there? So worrying about wrapped presents or keeping up traditions is moot. That will be how we give more, how we love all in the miracle of life and of family. It is the quintessential way to worship fully -- by realizing all blessings bestowed on us this year.

Leigh Kay