We grew up doing the same thing for almost every holiday, every year. I came to love Christmases and Easters and Thanksgivings with family–nine of us cousins running around, thick as thieves. There was always an Easter egg hunt in the springtime, always puzzles and dinner and Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, and Gramma sleeping over to welcome Santa with us in the morning.

I loved our traditions and stuck to them like glue. I didn’t know growing up that I was so attached to our family routines, but looking back, the patterns every year were comfortable and settling for my heart.

I grieved them for a long time after they dissipated, one by one.

For the past few years, we’ve welcomed Christmas in the little blue house, trying to create traditions of our own and to make things familiar for Henry and Eloise as they grow. We have all come to love Christmas morning around our own tree. Now, new memories of Christmases past are starting to stack up…Henry always peeking around the corner into the living room with a squeal of excitement, and this year, bringing his sister along with him, too.

I love these new images lingering in my mind, but they still haven’t replaced the parts of Christmas I’ve missed. I think the associations I have with the holidays from my younger years made it really hard for anything else to match up for a long time.

In a redemptive way though now, having our own children is giving me fresh eyes at Christmastime again–especially as the kiddos get a little bit older and can really enjoy all aspects of our own holiday traditions, visits, meals and surprises. And suddenly this time around, in the middle of multiple celebrations that will carry us into 2016, I’m realizing that our little family of four has a sweetness to it at this time of year that’s becoming Christmas to me.

This is a graceful part of December I didn’t know to expect. I just didn’t see it coming.

Sometimes it’s really, really hard to let go of the past in honor of the future. There’s beauty in having memories to treasure…they just have to take their rightful place.

I’ve realized that holidays past can either rob the ones we’re trying to enjoy now, or they can inspire us toward future hope and joy. Somehow, gracefully, life is currently affording me the latter.

When I think back to my growing up years, the longing that lingers the most is wanting make my Gramma proud and to do things in a way that would bless her and bring her joy. After all this time, I can finally see that the Christmases we’re celebrating as a family now would delight her just as much as they’re delighting me. And maybe even more.

Thinking back and looking forward,

molly madonna