I suspect that many family holiday gatherings – much like my own – center around a primary figure that shoulders the responsibility of bringing everyone together. My grandmother bore the responsibility for being that central, primary figure. And for the many years that encompassed my childhood and early adult years; 8882 Kimberly Court Detroit, Michigan 48204 was the hub for food, laughter, and overall joyous times. However, just a few months before I married my wife, that tradition ceased with the passing of our matriarch. She died, and in many respects so did my holiday spirit – especially during the Christmas season. Fractured; segments of my family splintered and celebrated the holidays with their own loved ones at various locales. We ceased to celebrate as one big family. And I fully understand what the real meaning of Christmas should be (as a matter of religious belief), but it is extremely difficult to divorce oneself from familial love and tradition. Sure, I participated in a superficial celebration of the holiday, nevertheless, I was helplessly ambivalent.

Approximately seven years after my grandmother’s passing, my daughter Ava was born. Two years thereafter my son Miles was born. As many parents can attest, the arrival of children marks a decided shift from yourself to little beings that are solely dependent upon you. And so, gradually throughout their young years, my attitude towards the holiday season began to positively change. In many ways, the death of my grandmother was the end of the first act of my young life. The second act was tough. The complexity of life will always offer varying degrees of adversity, but the struggle was about to get real. And life’s problems have a sly way of stripping happiness and joy.

I do not believe one simply moves on from the death of a loved one. No. The steady, deliberate passage time affords the necessary coping skills and rewarding life events to manage grief while building emotional and mental resiliency. The birth of my children was a blessing to both my mental and emotional state during the holidays. I am reminded of innocence. I am reminded of happiness absent preconditions. I am reminded of a wonderful ignorance of the grim realities of the world. And yes, my children love Santa Claus, Rudolph, Frosty, and even the Grinch. Undoubtedly, life awaits them, but for now, I will draw joy from the joy of their childhood. The second act (of my life) was a rough start but was eventually infused with hope. I wish my grandmother was still living to experience life with my children. Unfortunately, we don’t get everything we desire in life because, well, life is life. That part deeply saddens me. However, that sadness is balanced by the sheer joyous pandemonium that is going to ensue Christmas morning with gasps of excitement, flying wrapping paper, and screams of elation. I am a little compulsive, so tonight I will neatly arrange the gifts under the tree before that tornado touches down. I cannot wait. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and your families!