Since I can remember, the holidays were anchored by my two larger-than-life parents. I remember my mom’s intricately painted ceramic Christmas treasures on the hearth and mantle, our simple, yet colorful Christmas tree be-dazzled with silver shimmery icicles and tirelessly playing my dad as we tried out new toys and games. Those memories make me smile! Even as an adult, my parents continued to represent those sacred memories to me. But then, my mom passed away in 2019 taking half of my childhood identity with her. And earlier this year, my dad died taking the other half with him. In the silence and solitude of unfathomable loss, I became an orphan.
It’s Christmas and my parents are gone.
Representing the other bookend, God has allowed me to be the dad of four beautiful children. My wife and I have worked HARD to re-create the excitement of past Christmases even while championing a few of our own traditions we hoped would stand the test of time. The result? Year after year, bed-headed children eagerly climbed up on our couch waiting for the reading of the Christmas story and for permission to tear into all the gifts under the tree. Memories that make me smile!
But now, in place of children 10, 8, 7 and 5 are young adults 20, 18, 17 and 15. My wife and I have helplessly watched emblem after emblem of our celebration crumble at the inevitability of our children growing up. The kids still dutifully sit on the couch and try hard to feign some semblance of excitement, but then devour their candy, gather their gifts and disappear until they’re able to leave to go spend time with friends or significant others. My wife and I are left alone with a whole bunch of torn up wrapping paper and empty boxes strewn throughout our living room and our hearts.
It’s Christmas and my children are grown.
Adding to the sting, I have the privilege of working with lots of precious children. Not that I would EVER trade that, but being immersed in their world a couple hours a day is a gnawing reminder of the way things used to be both for me as a child growing up and for me as a now graduated parent of littles. Looking into their wide eyes, I LOVE everything about it, but, I admit, my heart breaks just a little bit behind my smile with each conversation, rendering my work and my home to be two worlds that are not easily reconciled.
I didn’t write out my heart here to court sympathy or to manufacture something that simply isn’t there. Instead, I know all of us at some point in life will find ourselves in this same no-man’s-land, cut off from those who have gone before us and seemingly cut off from those who will go after us. It’s a season of life God and I have been and will continue to work through.
Landon <><
