Perry was right

I'm staring at the Christmas tree. As pretty and sparkly as it is, I'm thinking I will take it down today. I assumed I would wait until after the New Year in an attempt to hang onto the slow peacefulness of late December for as long as possible. But it turns out I am happily, contentedly done with Christmas on December 30. And I think I know why.

For years, Rob and I used to travel for Christmas. Both sides of our families are spread around in at least five different states, none of them our own. Even when we lived in the same state, we were always on the move since it's a lot easier for two of us to travel than bunches of others. We managed to develop our own traditions but they were always shoehorned in around other traditions. But we were young and healthy and happy to make things fit.

Moving to Woodhaven meant driving to family was crazy talk so we traveled by plane. The first few years, it was rather nice to escape the probably-freezing cold for the balmy smog-free air of Orange County. No comment about the weather in Reno and Omaha. What can I say; we love our families.

But then one year we had a big December snow storm at Woodhaven and spent a week going only as far as we could walk. We stressed out for several days about whether we would be able to get to the airport for our Christmas Day flight. We did make it -- allowing for several extra hours and a chain removal stop -- but not before I watched Rob drag our hastily undecorated Christmas tree out to our burn pile through nearly two feet of snow.

Another year, I spent the day in a hotel room while Rob played golf with the men folk. I was grateful because I was in a world of hurt from the copious freeway travel that comes with visiting Los Angeles. I was in bed all day and watched online as a big snow storm unexpectedly nailed the Portland metro and basically shut the place down. Neighbors emailed me photos of a snow-dripped Woodhaven. Looking out the hotel window at a swaying palm tree and congested lanes of the 57 freeway, I was wistful for the excitement of being safely tucked in at home watching the snow fall amongst the fir trees.

So between the stress of not knowing if weather will hamper our plans, and the panic of trying to "get Christmas done" at Woodhaven so we can pack suitcases and leave, and the heightened back pain that comes with travel, Rob and I decided a few years ago to stay home for Christmas and see family during less hectic times of the year. I have loved it.

I love not rushing. I love not worrying about the winter weather. I love knowing that I can do all my Christmas preparations without trying to figure out how to leave enough spoons for a physically intensive trip at the end. And I love that Christmas at Woodhaven is it...the whole enchilada...and not something in a series of activities to end the year.

A few weeks ago I heard Perry Como singing "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays." I've always heard that as a song about travel, that wherever you are, someplace else is home and you need to be there for Christmas. But this year I heard it differently. I realized I already was home for Christmas, right here at Woodhaven with Rob. True, we don't have family here. Well, not family we were born into. But we have a different family; a family we chose, a family of friends. And while different, we still feel surrounded by love.

This year...our third Christmas at home...I made a concerted effort not to plan a lot of things for December. I wanted to allow the season to unfold and to try to keep my pain level managed so I could actually enjoy the holiday without needing to spend the first week of the new year recovering from it. Many of our days and evenings were completely unaccounted for as of December 1. What resulted was exactly what I hoped for.

There were movie nights and community concerts and laugh-filled dinners and lingering coffees and llama outings and dance recitals and nights filled with lights. And there were days spent resting on the couch with cats and mugs of tea. Instead of rushing through Christmas with a list of must-do's and must-go's, I let the season just be. I let it take me wherever it wanted to. As a result I am rested, content, and truly ready to see what the next year has in store for us. And ready to say good-bye to the tree until next year.