When I was a kid, my brother, Mike, and I spent many hours talking late into the night about what Christmas would be like that year. I suppose a big part of the reason we all adored Christmas was that my mom put so much time and effort into making it magical for us, as she does this to this day. One thing my mom had no control over delivering, however, was snow, which was an integral part of our "perfect Christmas." Yes, we even plotted the weather we must have: specifically the ideal day would have our yard covered with a blanket of soft white snow. And it definitely needed to be snowing on Christmas Day - beautiful flakes softly cascading down.
The weather seems to have shifted in recent years. We actually have had quite a few white Christmases of late. If I recall correctly, though, back then we had plenty of Christmases that were more brown than ivory. Our yuletide hopes dashed! Of course, we had wonderful holidays despite the fact that our perfect vision did not come to fruition.
It's been a long time since I spent hours envisioning the perfect Christmas, but this year has shown me that some of that little girl must still be in me. I catch myself checking the forecast each day, hoping for snow, looking outside a little sadly each morning. Christmas doesn't feel the same without snow. I mean, come on, we live in the Midwest! We have to deal with foul weather for months on end. We should be able to enjoy one fringe benefit - having a movie-perfect Christmas morning outside, right?!?!
OK, so I know this is how many people end up feeling a little or a lot blue this time of year. We put so much pressure on ourselves to find the perfect gift, make the perfect meal and cookies, decorate beautifully, enjoy ourselves to the highest degree!!! Inevitably, we fall short. Gifts sometimes fall flat, cookies burn, families squabble. It all seems so much worse than it is when you set yourself up with such high expectations. That's why when I find myself getting swept away in the pursuit of perfection, I try to catch and redirect myself.
This time of year, we hear so much about the true gifts of Christmas, those that do not fit under the tree. It can almost seem trite after a while. Darn if it isn't true, though. As adults, I think most of us realize that the best part of Christmas is the time we spend with people we love and the memories we make. Some of my favorite memories are those of imperfection, like the year when I was about 6 and cried and cried because I didn't get a doll. Unbeknownst to me, my aunt was going to give me one when we visited Chicago. My dad ran out to some store that was open and got me a doll, my parents telling me Santa must have dropped it in the garage.
Snow or no snow, I wish you all a very merry Christmas that is perfectly imperfect and filled with lots of memories!
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