Trees are heavy. I’ve never had to carry the brunt of one before, but I’ve taken on that role in the house now. I take more of the weight so my mother doesn’t have to strain. I wonder what ache her mind is in. She doesn’t need the added pressure of the $75 pine tree weighing down on her. I’ve got it. 

I guess this will be the year I do the lights alone… No buddy system in which I’m behind the tree and my dad hands me the strands from the front. Without a system though, how will it go? It’s going to be more tedious. Front. Back. Front. Back. A lot of pine needles are going to fall. But, I’ll make it work. I’ll do it for Mom, even though it’s not the same. 

But nothing will be the same again. I’m going to be alone to put the village up. An activity that was once done by my dad and me will be a solo task. If I didn’t take the initiative, would it even go up? Probably not. But I’m not going to let us have an empty mantle this year. We’ve had the village up forever and forever isn’t ending this year.  

Although the mantle is already arranged in an unfamiliar way. There is one less stocking hanging this year. I don’t like how it looks, I miss how it looked. The uneven number that should be displayed always made it look nice. Now we have to make room for the gap created on the wall and in life. 

How are we going to do this? In one day we go from our home to our cousin’s house and then back home to meet up with our grandma. How is Dad going to factor in? Sally is Dad’s mom so will she not come over anymore? 

I don’t want to ask about it because I don’t want to make Mom sad, but I’m also not sure how things are going to go. I want to see my dad for Christmas, but with tensions high, I’m not sure how that is going to happen. Christmas used to be carefree, but now I have to think about how to appease my mom while still seeing my dad. Holidays are about family, but now they’re marked with awkwardness and uncertainty. 

I wish my sister Kelly, was home from Chicago already… My brother, Connor, is like me and doesn’t ask. I don’t think if it’s of fright like me, but we don’t have a voice. We do, but it’s choked on the confusion and the questions that should come out are blocked. 

Ask now or ask later? Know for sure, never know. But, I need to know before Christmas gets here or nothing will happen. Everything will be made to seem like it’s okay, but the reality will be buried under the presents. 

I wish I could say something… Kelly would ask, no problem. Please get home soon. 

Christmas Eve with Dad; Christmas day with Mom. That means no more family dinner the night that Santa comes. Well, there will still be dinner, but not a whole table. I wonder how Mom feels about that? But how can she argue since she gets us on Christmas? The morning won’t have to change too much, just the obvious lack of one presence. 

My dad gets the night with poppers that contain paper-mache crowns and little trinkets that no one uses, but it’s tradition and it’s fun. The terrible jokes that start off the feast will be groaned at and the filet mignon will taste amazing, although my sister will use ketchup anyways. We’ll have dessert, most likely ice cream cake, and then open presents, which will be the new normal. My dad will actually have to get presents this year since we all know Mom would put “Love Mom & Dad” even though she bought all the gifts. 

My mom won’t get a different color crown or her own steak, but she will see us in the morning on the day that revolves around spending time with your family. My siblings and I will sit in our “designated” spots on the couch and Trans-Siberian Orchestra (TSO) will be playing from the kitchen. This year we will only have to wait until four people are awake. 

I hope this works… I hope all can be appeased… But nothing is certain in a time when everything is supposed to be. Holidays and family, family and holidays. Two concepts that go hand in hand, but nothing accounts for a split in one. Where is the instruction manual for navigating divorced parents during the holidays? Oh right, there isn’t such a thing; I guess I’ll write it myself. 

Step One: Don’t panic.

Well, too late for that. Can I start over?

Step Two: Be forward. It’s the only way things will get planned with less awkwardness. 

Well shit, awkward it is. 

Step Three… 

And so on and so on. There are probably a hundred things that could make it better, but it’s not going to be the same. 

Opening presents in the dark was weird. I associate presents with sunlight since we open them when we wake up in the morning. But we won’t see our father then so we opened them after we ate on Christmas Eve. Two days of opening presents—yay… I guess. 

We didn’t put out cookies this year, but that’s more so due to the fact that we don’t have a table in the living room anymore. But, we’ll have to see if we do it next year. Why should one parent get them and not the other though?

We made French toast on Christmas; that’s new. We usually don’t eat before opening presents or we all just eat whenever we wake up (which was usually at different times). New time, new recipe. It was good, it was unexpected. Getting over the hump of last night made this day feel more normal, how it was. The unoccupied space where my dad sat was noticeable, but we all tried to look past it and pretend like nothing was out of the ordinary. 

First year done and the first hurdle jumped. I think that from now on holidays to come won’t be as stressful since we were able to get through this one. No more constant worrying about what the plans are or when we’ll do Christmas with who. 

This doesn’t mean stress won’t be high next time the holidays roll around. I can already picture how fast my leg will be bouncing the day before Christmas Eve or the tingling feeling that will no doubt be all over my body, but especially concentrated in my legs. Just thinking about it now brings the sensations of my anxiety. 

One year, some year, I won’t have to worry about how things are going to play out. I won’t worry about spending Christmas Eve with my dad and I won’t think about the possibility of wondering what everyone is feeling; one day.

As time goes on and my parents learn to live with each other in a situation that’s going to be the new normal, I pray for tensions to go down. The ability to be in the same place sounds simple, but may as well be climbing Mount Everest at this point. When will it become a hill with a small slope? Maybe two years or five, probably ten but only time has the answers to everything I think about. 

Honestly, my sister and I may move states by the next round, but if we do come back, we will know that we can always fall back on what we did the first year. It worked well and now we won’t have to worry about asking what the plan is since we have precedent now. 

Times change and are continuously doing so. Next year I may not be around due to outside circumstances or I’ll be present for both days. Yes, it may still be awkward and definitely not the same, but navigating through the holidays won’t be as rough. Experience has shown us that we can make it work and get through it.