Christmas Morning without the Kids
The Ache of Divorce and Creating New Traditions
This will be my 12th Christmas as a mom and my first that I’m not with my kids on Christmas morning.
It’s been three and a half years since my divorce, but this is the first year where we’ve had a schedule where they are with their dad on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. I never regret my divorce—it’s allowed me to heal and choose myself and healthy relationships. It’s allowed me to model for my daughters what healthy boundaries and love look like.
But regardless of being confident and thankful for the decision I’ve made, divorce comes with aches and pains. And always some of that is missing important days and moments with your kids. This year, I will wake up on Christmas morning without my kids.
Often choosing ourselves—choosing to walk away from unhealthy relationships and situations—comes with pain. It’s a reality I will never love but one that I have learned to come to terms with.
It always helps me to keep things in perspective, though. We have other friends who won’t be celebrating Christmas on Christmas morning either. The father of one family has to work, and the mother of another family has to run her shift at the hospital on Christmas morning.
And I think of all of those who live in Palestine this Christmas, who have lived week after week in devastating circumstances. In the place where Jesus was born, they are just hoping for peace and safety.
This Christmas will look different. We have adjusted our plans, and we will treat Christmas night like Christmas Eve, and then the next morning, on the 26th, we will wake up to cinnamon rolls and presents under the tree.
Divorce wreaks havoc on traditions. It wrecks our idea of a perfectly curated family. But it’s in the wreckage that we find what really matters. And as I prepare for Christmas this year, I know what matters most is Love. Authenticity. Wholeness. Togetherness, and making the most of the most of the moments we have with one another, even if they aren’t all the moments.
I once believed that what mattered most was staying together at all costs. To have the perception of family. To appease the crowds by masquerading around my family that had the appearance of happy and put together. To ensure my children had one home with both their mom and dad.
But now I know what matters is showing up authentically every day. It’s the truth that sets us free.
When I think of the foundational Christmas story, I’m reminded of how imperfect it all was. An unwed mother. A baby laid in an animal’s trough. A small town governed by tyranny and corrupt power. Sometimes peace on earth shows up by wrecking our perception of perfection and birthing a new paradigm that finds healing and wholeness in the rubble. The best memories come from reimagining amidst an imperfect world.
This Christmas will be different. But in it, we will be reminded that the wonder of Christmas, of hope, peace, joy, love, and togetherness, isn’t set aside for just a certain day but rather are truths we can experience all throughout the year.
