No Christmas for Me this Year

The painful reality has set in. There will be no Christmas for me this year.

Christmas is a holiday celebrated at home - with beautiful lights, garland, and tinsel. There's a sparkling, ornament-covered tree in the corner and stocking hanging by the chimney with care.

Many years ago, we decided that Christmas would be low key at our house. We'd decorate with snowmen and stockings, but no tree. We'd enjoy celebrating in the warm embrace of my large extended family.

For 27 years, we welcomed Christmas week with a holiday party and invited 200 friends and family to join us to celebrate the season. The invitations would have gone out just after Thanksgiving. This week, I should have been cleaning the house from top to bottom. COVID cancelled the holiday party.

For probably 18 or so years, Christmas Eve has been spent at my niece's family's house. The kids have enjoyed tracking Santa with their cousins. The opening of gifts by the little ones morphed into a white elephant gift exchange once they all got into their late teens. COVID cancelled the Christmas Eve gathering.

When my parents were alive, we visited them on Christmas Day. My children even helped decorate. Well, my parent's house has been closed up for 9 years now. (That doesn't seem possible.)

For years now, Christmas Day has been laid back with brunch or dinner at my niece and nephew's house. COVID cancelled Christmas Day visits.

Even after 23 years, this time of year is hard. I wonder if it will be easier this year. Or harder? All I know is that there will be no Christmas for me this year. This year will be just another day - watching from afar on Facebook and Instagram. Although most indoor and outdoor Christmas celebrations are cancelled, Santa will still visit. Immediate families will still gather around the tree for gift giving and share traditional family meals. I look forward to your pictures...at least I think I do.

I don't share these thoughts because I want sympathy. I just want to raise awareness that this year may be harder than usual for those who usually only get to truly celebrate Christmas by joining their families in their homes and don't celebrate it in their own homes. Yet another side effect of this pandemic.

Past Christmas-related posts

• Christmas from my Eyes
• December Reflections from an Interfaith Mom
• Can my Child Skip Religious School to Get a Tree?
• Merry Chanukah! Happy Christmas!
• Christmas Minyan
• Shalom Christmas

When You Decide to Raise Children in a Different Religion

Last week, my 23 year old daughter said she'd like us to build a sukkah. We haven't built one since her freshman year of college. And, the only reason we built it that year was because she called and told us we had to!

So, she and I set to work on the building - a day late and on Shabbat! Hey, we're interfaith! It was a gorgeous Saturday - late morning, when we started. Autumn sounds, smells, and temperatures were in full swing. It was a beautiful way to spend a Fall day.

11:00AM: I took the component parts down from their storage area in the garage. She carried everything out to the yard.

12:00PM: The bottom perimeter was easy. The vertical poles were a cinch. Then, we started the roof poles.

1:30PM  All seemed good, right until a pole came crashing down inches from my head. 

2:00PM Maybe we should eat, she says. No, let's finish the roof, I say. That was followed by the hammer falling on my wrist because I was tired. One pole to go. We can do this. No, we can't. Nothing will budge to squeeze the final pole into place. 

3:00PM That's when we asked my husband, her father, for help. He explained the problem (along with the shoulda's, coulda's, and woulda's), gave the solution (including starting the roof over again), and then walked away. My blood pressure was rising.

Didn't he understand? She probably doesn't even realize it. Her Catholic boyfriend is coming to visit during Sukkot. She wants to share this with him. It's one of our favorite holidays, not one all Jews celebrate. She wonders if she'll always have a Sukkah. She's dealing with the same issues we did 30 years ago. As my brother said, "Tell your husband, what goes around, comes around."

And why didn't my husband start the answer to our problem with, "Hey, thanks, Catholic mother who raised two Jewish children. Thanks for building a sukkah with our grown daughter. I built one every year for my entire childhood. And then every year for our children's childhood. I'm over it, but it's cool that you're not." Nope, he left the shiksa to build the sukkah and then told her what she did wrong.

Upon reflection, I realize that this happens in many Christian families too. One parent is all about Christmas decorations - the garland, the tree, the lights. The other one - not so much. And, yes, my brain knows that. However, my heart - even after 23 years of being an interfaith mom - still says, "REALLY? REALLY? I'm the one building this thing? This was definitely not part of the deal when I told you that I thought we should raise our kids Jewish. And that when I do things, I typically do them 110%." 

Oh, wait, I guess it probably was.

Take note those of you considering this journey...there are unintended consequences. When you decide to raise a child in a religion different than your own, you may be taking on the holidays on your own. You may be building a sukkah - or struggling with Christmas lights. How committed are you?

3:30PM Lunch

4:00PM Take down the roof and start over again.

5:00PM Nap

6:30PM Dinner in the sukkah.

We Are Family

Yes, this part of our lives is sad. It's tiring. It's overwhelming. And yet, it shows the power of family.

During this week, my husband's extended family came together to celebrate Passover. This night was different than any other night. We celebrated with family far and near. We celebrated from coast to coast and from North to South. We had family join us from the middle of the country and the middle of the state. Others joined us from the other side of town. It was wonderful. It was a Passover that will be remembered by all. And the amazing thing about it was that it was like every other Passover. My husband worked hard to make sure everyone had the experience. The only difference is that we weren't together physically, but we were together as family - remembering the journey from slavery to freedom.

And, then, my Catholic family came together - two Friday nights in a row. Some of us live within a few miles of each other, and we only see each other at Christmas and Father's Day. And yet, in this time when we are all struggling, we chose to be together. We talked. We laughed. We smiled. We shared the challenges. We celebrated the successes. The nurse, the teacher, the parents, the students - all coming together because we are family.

My Catholic family and my Jewish family are the same. We are family. We find solace in being together. We appreciate each other for who we are, and who we are not. While we talked tonight, on Good Friday, my husband was making Matzah lasagna, and my Italian family looked shocked by the possibility of substituting matzah for lasagna. We laughed. We smiled. We joined in celebration of family.