ME. MOM. AND DAD.

It’s official. I will be spending Christmas with my mom and dad. Just my mom. And my dad. Cole’s dad has out of town plans for him, and my brother and sister-in-law will be spending the holiday with her family. So, it’s just me. Mom. And Dad.Holidays are always a sharp reminder for us divorced people that THIS IS NOT HOW IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE. How many times in the last ten years have I laid on my bed, stared at the ceiling fan and thought that???

I have a picture on my refrigerator that shows how it is supposed to be. It is the front of a greeting card – a two story old, traditional house with a wreath and lit candle in every window; a porch wraps around the front of the house and the walkway is lined with snow. It looks very warm. That is how Christmas is supposed to be. Coming home to gather with your large family, huddling by the fireplace and drinking hot chocolate. You’ll eventually inherit and move out to the old family home place where someday you’ll host Christmas for your children and grandchildren. Ah.

Well, as we all know, that’s just NOT THE WAY IT IS for most of us. These lean Christmases have happened before. My mom can’t stand the thought of the three of us sitting around the house on Christmas, so we concoct some plan to get us out of the house. We usually all go to bed thinking THIS IS NOT HOW IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE. (Like several years ago when we ended up at the Gaylord Texan eating Mexican food in a bar for our Christmas dinner.)

This year, we have made plans to go to Santa Fe. Me. Mom. And Dad. Traveling with my father, God love him, takes the patience of Job or copious amounts of wine. There was the time when he was driving to New Mexico that he pulled over on the side of a busy highway to adjust his mirrors; or the time he said he had my suitcase, and we didn’t discover until we got to my house that it was someone else’s suitcase; or the time he lost his “very important bag” within five minutes of arriving at the airport; or the time he managed to lose the rental car papers between getting in the rental car and driving to the parking lot exit.

My father hasn’t traveled in about four years, so it should be interesting (a nice way of saying “extremely draining”) Here’s to a “different” kind of Christmas!