home & holidays
December 19, 2014 § 6 Comments
The last day of school on the eve of Christmas vacation is always a messy culmination of anticipated joy. Teacher gifts and classroom parties, last minute errands and spontaneous gatherings; a chaos of intentions and accidents, I scavenge stolen moments for misplaced time before we collide into quieter pursuits collectively. It is a rhythm as predictable as the months of the year and yet today arrived dauntingly premature.
In all the enthusiasm of our new addition I had not calculated the debt of time I could not balance, absences and compromises accumulating as evidence of failure. My teacher gifts were lackluster and impersonal, generically uniform and in sharp contrast to the lengthy list of rare souls who shadow my children’s school days. Holiday cards were patiently and intentionally addressed only to be stuffed beneath the congested procrastination of my kitchen drawer with stamps yet unadhered. The tree stands naked in want of ornaments that guard memories of years past in anticipation of years to come, an unintentional watermark of where we have settled in comfort against the grain.
And then I missed my daughter’s holiday party.
Despite every effort to restructure my afternoon, I could not coordinate a way to divide myself between commitments and I canceled the task I most wanted to honor out of obligation to my other child. It was an impossible choice based on logic in defiance of want made easier by the presumed acquiescence of my daughter’s silent approval. I didn’t see her brave face in our frantic morning goodbye and so I misread her hasty hug for feisty independence.
It would be so easy to stack what did not happen today, what cannot possibly be fixed tomorrow, into a guard against joy. Sometimes our first choice does not provide a second chance, but then again some days the broken places of our best efforts invites grace.
Tonight I am dwelling on a casual exchange that might not have occurred had my daughter not needed comfort and had my day had ended inside her classroom rather than outside the festivities at the perimeter of dismissal routines. In a moment of tender confession my daughter declared to a well-loved, long trusted aide that our home is not perfect and that’s perfectly ok.
It was the validation I most needed to hear today and the gift I could not possibly have formed into a wish. The measure of home against the impossible standards of the holidays. Forgiveness and acceptance in a child’s love.
scribblechic 
yes, correct. You took me back to one of my best memories while I was at school and preparing for all Holidays long vacations! You have always a productive post!
Thank you. I’m glad my story created a path to your own memories.
You’ve captured this well… the chaos of the season. Even with my best efforts, I know I’m going to have moments where I fall short. And my teacher’s gifts were totally generic, not even wrapped– just slapped with a Gift from the Lees sticker. But this left me time to snuggle with warm, pajammied boys yesterday morning. xoxo
Thanks, Britt. There was a moment as I delivered the gifts that I was torn between wanting to wrap them in apologies and needing to embrace the truth of my limits, practical and emotional. This above all else, a sort of internal acknowledgment and acceptance was a huge moment for me. In clearing out the clutter of guilt there was so much more room for peace. xo
I like the way you reconciled this. It’s perhaps the greatest gift any of us parents can get when we realize that the things we value most–in this case understanding and forgiveness–are gifts that our own children possess in quantity. Frankly, those are the moments when you close your eyes, turn inward for a moment and say to yourself with gratitude, “it’s worked out just fine.”
In a somewhat related note I’m pleased to tell you that my family is once again whole. Eldest son came home last night from Calgary after a four-month work-term there. You should have seen my wife–she was just like a little kid getting a gift she’d been asking for for months…oh yeah, I guess that’s exactly what it was 🙂
I cannot imagine a sweeter more meaningful gift than my children’s company. I’m glad your son is home!