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Making Our Own Way
Our childhood Christmas traditions didn't work for us. But why was finding new ones so difficult?
By Eric Reed
 1 of 4
My wife, Donna, remembers only two things from her childhood Christmases—the year her older brother found Santa's stash in Mom's closet (which got all the kids in trouble), and the music ball. A round blue music box that hung from the doorframe and played tinkling carols, the music ball was a single soft sparkle in a string of otherwise uneventful Christmases. All Donna's family holidays were like that. Her parents had moved from Ohio to Florida when the children were young, and far from adoring grandparents, family traditions faded and holidays were observed quickly and uneventfully. A doll, an orange (it was Florida, after all), and it was time to take down the palm tree.
My family celebrations, by contrast, were the definition of hoopla: huge trees and mounds of presents and late night communion services followed by wee-hour breakfasts at Waffle House. In my young memory, the bread of heaven was served with maple syrup. My Christmases were always a merry tangle of camel caravans and three turbaned Mammaws bearing treasures decked in curling ribbon. With few exceptions, every Christmas was grander than the one before.
Maybe this is why I brought so many holiday expectations to our marriage and my wife brought almost none. Although we compared our childhood holiday traditions early in our courtship, I did not realize how overcoming the differences would test our relationship.
Why was it so difficult, at the time of year when everything else is so sweet and tender, for us to connect emotionally?
A battle of expectations
Some newly married couples wrestle over money management or in-laws, conflicting politics or mismatched personalities. Not us. Our differences came down to wattage and yardage. We disagreed over how many strings of lights the tree needed and how much garland should festoon the house. Donna's philosophy was "less is more" and mine was "more is more—and more, and more." I wanted Christmas to be as grandiose as I remembered, only more so. She wanted something simple to dismantle and pack away.
This led to a growing dread of the holidays as Donna and I struggled to create our own traditions. For a couple years we tried "the perfect gift" approach. To compensate for the low-key gift-giving of her childhood, Donna had become expert at finding the present that wonderfully matched the personality of the recipient: tickets to a PGA tournament for the golfer, antique earrings for the jewelry collector.
So for Donna, even if the present was small and inexpensive, hearing or saying, "Oh, it's the perfect thing!" was the one expectation she brought to our married-couple Christmases. Choosing presents is not my spiritual calling, but after one lean and regrettable year I joined the game, playing by her rules—but adding a flare of my own: volume giving.
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