Real Holidays

When I was younger, I used to buy into the perfect holidays depicted on those Norman Rockwell prints. I have learned how to mask my disappointments when reality set in and taught me a hard lesson that nothing is perfect.

 

This perfect holiday and all that surrounds it is never just that perfect. No matter how many times I see those moving Christmas Ads on Television, I secretly get moved by the music and seeing those perfect gifts on TV from the jewelry stores and the Hallmark shops. I am embarrassed to say that I choke up and fight back the tears. That’s when it rushes in that there are no perfect moments because no matter how hard we try – no one and nothing is perfect.

 

After all these years, I now have figured out how to not worry about making everything perfect during the hectic holidays. When it comes to cutting down my Christmas tree, I just see whoever wants to come along. Sometimes, when it doesn’t work out, I just get a tree from one of the local nurseries. I stopped fretting because I know one of my kids will put the tree in the stand and someone else will help me decorate it as well.

 

Every year my daughters and daughters-in-law and I get together for our annual cookie exchange. Sometimes it is hard to find the right date for everyone to agree on. With nine individuals participating, it is a miracle to find that perfect date. In the end, it works out and the cookie exchange goes on.

 

Years ago, when my kids were little, I remember seeing a television ad of a mother and children in their kitchen baking holiday cookies together. The kids were laughing, the mother in her apron was smiling, the cookies looked delicious and beautiful and the kitchen was spotless. After seeing this ad, I decided to do this with all my little kids. I made the cookie dough and they rolled out the cookies and cut them with the cookie cutters. After they were baked, they decorated them with icing and sprinkles

 

I have a photo somewhere in one of my unorganized shoe boxes. It is a photo of my children, covered with flour from head to toe, the kitchen table and floor is covered with flour too. That moment was a mess. When I think back to how happy it made my children – even if it wasn’t a perfect Kodak moment – it was a moment frozen in time and it is still etched in my brain and heart. It is part of a memory that has lasted and I will always carry it with me. It will always put a smile on my face as I choke back a tear or two. And maybe just maybe this is my perfect moment in a not so perfect world.