‘Keeping Christmas,’ it happened again for us, even this year

Remembering the words of Henry Van Dyke (although admittedly not fulling his total intent), this year again we kept Christmas.

We gathered with family we love.

We wore red and felt the warmth of greetings from others we love at church on Christmas Eve morning.

We found a spot in an absolutely packed auditorium and listened to children sing and then sang along with carols we’ve known since childhood.

We wrapped gifts and opened them with surprise and delight.

We watched Christmas movies.

We ate. Ohmigoodness, how we ate. And now that Christmas is over, Evelyn and I will still be eating from the leftover food crammed into the refrigerator, the freezer, and the pantry.

In short, it was a Christmas like so many others.

There were significant differences this year, to be sure. For starters, two of our number woke up with sore throats and fevers on Christmas morning and spent much of the day asleep in a chair, on the floor, or in their beds. (Sorry, no family picture this year.)

And, of course, Evelyn was usually an object of care or concern. She generally enjoyed Christmas day, sometimes alone in a corner reading aloud from a book. And sometimes she had trouble sitting in one place and settling in to engage with what was happening.

But with that, I’ve already said more negative than this post needs. We “kept Christmas.” We didn’t let it pass unmarked or uncelebrated. We reflected on Christmases past, and I must admit, I pondered what next Christmas might look like.

But we didn’t let what we can’t control stop us from pursuing the opportunity right in front of us: Christmas. A Christmas to celebrate. A Christmas we won’t forget. A Christmas to keep.