Letting Go of Expectations

This year, the holidays for our family will once again take on new hues, hushed tones, different expressions. Though not related to Covid or death, our own holiday celebrations are morphing and changing yet again. My elder daughter’s in-laws are having health issues, and won’t be hosting their usual Thanksgiving gathering. Luckily, she’s coming north to celebrate with us. It’s breaking our 14-year long tradition, but in a good way.

Earlier this week, my brother informed me that he and his partner will not be joining us for our family gathering on Christmas Day; they are heading to NYC, tickets in hand for Broadway and ballet, and all things Big-Apple-tinsel. On the heels of his text, my sister said she wouldn’t be coming for Christmas because her husband will be freshly post-op from knee-replacement surgery, confined to the sofa for a few weeks. The other sister is often unable to join us because of her own husband’s health issues.

Within a few hours of my sending out a “reminder text” to the family, it appeared that our family’s traditional Christmas gathering was taking a decided down-turn. Seeing the shrinking numbers, and knowing that my younger brother’s mother-in-law had recently moved into their home due to her growing frailty, I reached out to my sister-in-law and suggested we ditch the “usual” holiday celebration so she could remain home with her own family and aging mom, proposing instead a family-gathering in mid-February sometime, when the stresses and expectations of the holidays would be behind us. She quickly agreed, sounding decidedly relieved to have one less event to manage.

What is it about family and holiday traditions that create such expectations in us - such a frenzy to be perfect and happy - no matter what? Why do we create this fairy tale of expectations that stress us out, break the bank, and cause such angst?

In particular, Thanksgiving and Christmas carry a burdensome weight of familial expectations, especially for families that are broken or shrinking, though all manner of families succomb to the mad-dash to the perfect holiday. Never mind that these expectations are often wildly unrealistic and costly, and usually end up disappointing everyone. Where does this even come from? Today’s holiday “traditions” have little basis in what folks actually did to celebrate these holidays 100 or 200 years ago - never mind that what we believe is “true” about any of our traditions (Pilgrims, pumpkin pies, Santa Claus, and a red-nosed reindeer to name but a few) have little basis in fact.

From where, then? From whom do these expectations around holiday traditions come from?

I blame Madison Avenue and Hallmark. No matter how hard we try, it’s just not possible to create the picture-perfect Thanksgiving or Christmas that we see on commercials, in magazines or in sentimental movies that play upon our sense of nostalgia and hopes for perfect family harmony. They merely add to the unreality, the fantasy, the make-believe world we so badly want to believe exists. And when we fail to create the perfect holiday, we blame ourselves for once again falling short of the mark, and most amazingly - vowing (once again) that next year, we’ll surely get it right. When you think about it, it’s sheer madness.

I also believe that our disconnect with reality during these holidays is based upon our own disappointments and hurts from holidays past. We go all out in money and time to cook up the perfect Thanksgiving meal to recreate a magazine spread we saw that depicted each person at the table as elegant, healthy, joyous, content, thinking it will make our own normal family seem more special somehow. We buy the expensive doll for our child because we remember our own disappointment on that fateful Christmas morning when she wasn’t anywhere to be found under the tree. We attempt to gather in all our family (and often adding in friends) during these holidays to soothe our own broken hearts and failed relationships, seeking to create, in some way, a new reality of a memory that never truly existed.

We fantasize and call it memory; we invent and call it tradition, but neither the memory nor the tradition is real. And when we realize that, we are disappointed and sad - achieving the very opposite of what we’ve tried to create.

I’m not immune to such fantasies and sepia-toned memories, but I like to think that with age (and heartache and the living of life itself) has come more wisdom, more grace, a broader, gentler perspective.

There’s something to be said for having attempted these holiday fantasies for years, hopping on that same treadmill over and over - and finally figuring out that what I wanted, what I dreamed of - just didn’t exist. My reality was here and now, with these amazing people called family and friends who would love me even when the turkey wasn’t perfectly moist, even when the gift under the tree wasn’t exactly right.

There’s something to be said for realizing Thanksgiving isn’t about gluttony or perfect apples pies, but about gratitude for all I already have been given the other 364 days a year.

There’s something to be said for coming to understand that the miracle of Christmas in celebrating the incarnation of divinity and humanity is a miracle I should also celebrate all the other days of the year.

There’s something to be said for finally - finally - gaining the perspective that family and friends can be celebrated in the here and now, whenever we want, in the hamburgers on the grill, with the wild-flower bouquet handed over in love, in shared meals and love and laughter of family who can gather whenever - and wherever - it suits them best.

There is something to be said for deciding how to feel; for choosing the more gracious way, the softer, sweeter expectation of what’s to come. It’s what gave me the grace to tell my brother to enjoy NYC, and his plays and ballet, creating a new experience of Christmas. It’s what nudged me to call my sister-in-law and open the door to her own changed holiday expectations; dealing with an aging frail mother is difficult enough. I had no place in exacting a higher price to that difficult experience.

There’s something to be said for letting go of expectations, for putting away our fantasies, and for enjoying all that life has to offer, each and every day. 24/7. 365.