{"id":131,"date":"2013-12-25T11:31:00","date_gmt":"2013-12-25T11:31:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2013\/12\/a-christmas-wish.html"},"modified":"2014-08-22T16:02:37","modified_gmt":"2014-08-22T21:02:37","slug":"a-christmas-wish","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2013\/12\/a-christmas-wish.html","title":{"rendered":"A Christmas Wish"},"content":{"rendered":"<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC \"-\/\/W3C\/\/DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional\/\/EN\" \"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/TR\/REC-html40\/loose.dtd\">\n<html><head><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><\/head><body><p>When I was a girl, Santa Claus always came while we were at Midnight Mass. It was one of my favorite traditions. We would get home around 1:00 am, the tree would be ablaze with lights and the presents were heaped in piles around it. It was years before I figured out how it was done, and it kept me believing in elves and magic long after my friends had decided that such things were for babies.<\/p>\n<p>I can remember those late nights so clearly in my mind \u2013 we would sit in the living room, bathed in the glow of twinkle lights, and open presents while the rest of the world was still sleeping. As the wrapping paper flew, my mother would slip a pan of cinnamon rolls into the oven and put on a pot of coffee and another of hot chocolate. Our late night reverie often included our parish priest and any of the single Navy guys from our parish who were alone that Christmas Eve\/Morn. It was loud with laughter, the sounds of children, and the wafting voice of my mother and her choir friends singing carols in the kitchen.<\/p>\n<p>Sometime around 3:00, we would start yawning and Mom would shoo us off to bed. She tidied up the living room and put the turkey in the oven before going to bed herself. We would all sleep soundly until the aroma of turkey beckoned us in the early afternoon.<\/p>\n<p>Both sets of grandparents and a beloved aunt would arrive for supper, and the phone would ring all day \u2013 bringing the tidings of family and friends from across the country. We were loved and basked in the glow of it all.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s been twenty-five years since that last magical Christmas, a car accident and then a divorce drove our family apart. There will only be two short phone calls \u2013 one from my mom and the other from my younger brother. My beloved aunt will send an email with a funny story that the children will tell all week long, and some years there\u2019s an email from my dad that makes me sigh with \u201cmight-have-beens\u201d.<\/p>\n<p>Today seems so completely opposite to the raucous family celebrations of my childhood. Instead of extended family, there will be only us curled up on the couch this Christmas morning. When I listen to my own children\u2019s Christmas memories, they use words like \u201cquiet\u201d, \u201cpeaceful\u201d, and \u201ccalm\u201d to describe it. It seems so far removed from what Christmas felt like to me that it\u2019s hard to reconcile the present memories with those from childhood, but life happens. There is a lot of life between my childhood and the Christmases of today \u2013 things that can\u2019t be undone and others that shouldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p>It doesn\u2019t take away the sweet ache for that loud and joyous time, or the memory of the family to which I once belonged. If they are reading this \u2013 Merry Christmas. Thank you for the gift of beautiful memories in the past, and the added gift of peace today. I wish you happiness in all that you do, and that you are as surrounded by love in your homes and lives as I am in mine.<\/p>\n<p>Christmas looks so very different now from the ones that I knew and loved \u2013 but different isn\u2019t always a bad thing. As much as I loved the jubilant days of the past, there is a sweet loveliness to the ones of now. Midnight Mass is difficult with a hoard of children, and we take advantage of the popularity of the Christmas Eve Masses and enjoy an entire pew to ourselves on Christmas morning. Santa still comes in the middle of the night, but instead of simply dropping off the gifts and leaving \u2013 I spend a huge part of the evening wrapping in the quiet of my walk in closet and watching the sappy holiday movies that my family hates. After church this morning, we\u2019ll come home and put our jammies back on, all but my husband. The Computer Guy will spend the rest of the day laughingly calling us bums because we\u2019re not properly dressed and we\u2019ll tease him right back. Sometime this afternoon, one of the children will get hungry and we\u2019ll make a big pot of soup and snuggle up on the couch under our blankets \u2013 eating soup, watching the children play with toys, and watching a few movies. If we get really motivated, there might be a walk in the nearby woods before we all take a long winter\u2019s nap. It will be quiet, love-filled, and peaceful. It will be the yardstick by which my children measure Christmases to come \u2013 because that\u2019s the thing about childhood, it glows warm and perfect in your memory. <\/p>\n<p>There is magic here too, it\u2019s just a different kind. It\u2019s the warm, lazy glow of contentment that spreads out from my children and washes backwards over me \u2013 because there is healing in parenthood. The hurts from the past are healed by wet 2-year-old kisses, enthusiastic 4-year-old hugs, and the head of a teenager laid upon my shoulder. They are God\u2019s great gift to me ever year at Christmas, and I ask for nothing more. This morning, as they sat near the gifts by the tree (waiting for the frenzy to begin,) I saw in the glow of the Christmas lights that I had everything I\u2019d ever dared to hope for \u2013 the family I thought I\u2019d lost in the middle of it all has been given back to me in the most amazing ways. Children, friends, \u201cadopted\u201d parents, husband\u2026all of it\u2026.breathtaking and wonderful. <\/p>\n<table cellpadding=\"0\" cellspacing=\"0\" class=\"tr-caption-container\" style=\"float: right;margin-left: 1em;text-align: right\">\n<tbody>\n<tr>\n<td style=\"text-align: center\"><a href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/458\/-3smpiI0N4Iw\/UruDyg44-tI\/AAAAAAAACcA\/94l2xa1F5XU\/s1600\/christmas+morning.JPG\" style=\"clear: right;margin-bottom: 1em;margin-left: auto;margin-right: auto\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" border=\"0\" height=\"240\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/458\/-3smpiI0N4Iw\/UruDyg44-tI\/AAAAAAAACcA\/94l2xa1F5XU\/s320\/christmas+morning.JPG\" width=\"320\"><\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<tr>\n<td class=\"tr-caption\" style=\"text-align: center\">My Christmas gifts\u2026waiting for me by the tree<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<p>I can remember the Christmas when I was 20. I spent it completely alone, hiding under the covers on the bed in my apartment because no one was coming, and I had been invited nowhere. \u201cA family,\u201d I told God. \u201cI just want a family for Christmas.\u201d On Epiphany, the twelfth day of Christmas, the ex-boyfriend who had broken my heart called me on the phone and proposed, and so it all began. A wild ride of quiet celebrations that brought us to today, and seven children seated around the tree.<\/p>\n<p>Because sometimes Christmas wishes come true and they seem like the wrong size or color, but once you try them on they turn out to be exactly what you didn\u2019t know you\u2019d always hoped for.<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: red\">Merry Christmas,<\/span><br><span style=\"color: red\">from the Computer Guy and the Bums who are still in their PJ\u2019s<\/span><\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>When I was a girl, Santa Claus always came while we were at Midnight Mass. It was one of my favorite traditions. We would get home around 1:00 am, the tree would be ablaze with lights and the presents were heaped in piles around it. It was years before I figured out how it was [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1979,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-131","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>A Christmas Wish<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"When I was a girl, Santa Claus always came while we were at Midnight Mass. It was one of my favorite traditions. We would get home around 1:00 am, the\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2013\/12\/a-christmas-wish.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"A Christmas Wish\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"When I was a girl, Santa Claus always came while we were at Midnight Mass. It was one of my favorite traditions. We would get home around 1:00 am, the\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2013\/12\/a-christmas-wish.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Shoved to Them\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2013-12-25T11:31:00+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2014-08-22T21:02:37+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/wp.production.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/files\/-3smpiI0N4Iw\/UruDyg44-tI\/AAAAAAAACcA\/94l2xa1F5XU\/s320\/christmas+morning.JPG\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Rebecca Frech\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Rebecca Frech\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"5 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2013\/12\/a-christmas-wish.html\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2013\/12\/a-christmas-wish.html\",\"name\":\"A Christmas Wish\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/#website\"},\"datePublished\":\"2013-12-25T11:31:00+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2014-08-22T21:02:37+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/#\/schema\/person\/a480038559bb99863ca3ba86f368775d\"},\"description\":\"When I was a girl, Santa Claus always came while we were at Midnight Mass. 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