Merry Christmas

This Christmas was perfectly imperfect. Recently, I was asked to describe what Christmas is like in my family and what my role is. Each family is different; some people are the host, others are the funny little brother suppplying jokes, others the bossy older sister directing the holiday like an air traffic controller. When asked, my reply was "the peace keeper."

One of the benefits of divorced parents is having multiple Chrismases. Each family is its own little culture and it is my job to shepherd my sister and I successfully through the holiday in two different lands, getting the right gifts and participating in the right traditions at each Christmas. I am thankful we get to, and have gotten over the years, spend time and have a meaningful Christmas with each family.

But there is also the pressure that one misstep, one miscalculation on timing, or eating just a bit too much at one house, could result in the whole house of cards falling down. I am always relieved the day after Christmas when everything has been successfully executed. So I was a bit relieved when an "imperfect" moment came up Christmas Eve day. My grandmother needed to go to the emergency room for a few tests. I could tell she hated to go; it was not the Christmas image she had pictured.

But you know what? To me, there was something perfect about the family being together in the emergency room on Christmas Eve. Whatever we had been doing (most of it insignificant) we stopped doing so we could be with Grandma. Since I no longer live in my hometown, I felt fortunate to be able to be there in person rather than getting this news over the phone. And this unexpected field trip punctured the "perfect" Christmas bubble, leaving things to be perfectly imperfect - and allowing us to spend time together, which is what matters most at Christmas time.