A few nights ago, I was lying in bed deep in concentration trying to fall asleep. Concentrating because I was attempting to achieve the nearly impossible feat of falling asleep while breathing through my nose. This may be a small feat for you, however my wife can attest that I am rarely successful. (Allegedly, I snore if I fall asleep breathing through my mouth… allegedly.) I have a deviated septum, which means very little air makes it from my nose down into my lungs, without concentration and a bit of effort, which makes it difficult to fall asleep. Not to mention, the excess resistance in my nose dries it out and makes me prone to nosebleeds. As I lay there, I began to wonder, “why me?” Why can’t I at least have a nose that works the way it’s “supposed to?” But what was I saying? “Supposed to.” Nothing ever works that way.
When I came back from college, I made it my mission to elevate my parents’ coffee situation. Shouldn’t be hard since their current setup was a base model Keurig. At college I’d grown accustomed to some really good coffee and I couldn’t come home to an entire summer of the bad stuff! First they got a Mr. Coffee, and then a year later, a Ninja. I actually think they’ve had two Ninjas over the years. All worked fine, up until the point that they didn’t. Then it was a mission to find a “newer” and “better” coffee pot. The perfect coffee pot had to be out there somewhere, right? Eventually we found it. They came home with a Moccamaster, the Cadillac of all coffee pots. They’re HANDMADE in the Netherlands! (Don’t ask how much they paid for it.) To my utter and complete dismay, that coffee pot has been nothing but a disappointment to me ever since they got it. To me, it doesn’t work like it’s “supposed to.” The coffee it brews, in my opinion, is either too strong and bitter or too weak and sour. My parents like it well enough, but to me it’s infuriating! Something that was supposed to be perfect, but wasn’t.
You may be asking where I’m going with this, so here it is, I believe both of these imperfect things, my nose and my parents’ coffee pot, are much like Christmas. We build the holiday up to be this perfect event – the food, the family, the gifts, all of it – and it never turns out quite how we’d hoped. The family argues too much. The food isn’t as good as it was in previous years. John couldn’t be here. Jane is sick. Jeanette wasn’t happy with her gift, but always gives the worst gifts! We never can capture the magic of Christmas gone by. Let me be the first to tell you, there was no magic in the air of those by-gone years, and they were far from perfect, just like this one wasn’t. What it is is you’re longing for something that doesn’t exist, and a selective memory of what you wish were true. And that is OKAY. We think that Christmas is “supposed to be perfect,” but it isn’t and it never will be. Nevertheless I have grown to love the imperfections. I love that my aunt got me pajamas four years in a row. I love that PawPaw would give all the guys cologne in hopes that if we “smelt good, maybe we wouldn’t be single the next year.” I love that the food is never the same because no one in my family knows how to follow a recipe, or write one down for that matter. I love my parents’ bad coffee because if I’m drinking that bad coffee, I’m drinking it WITH my parents!
Real holidays aren’t like Hallmark movies. The girl doesn’t always save her parents’ store and get the guy. But how boring would life be if that was always the truth? There wasn’t room at the inn so many years ago because that’s not how the world works, and if your whole family was together this Christmas or is in these days after, there won’t be room for all of them either! But I’m sure there’s room somewhere for a pallet or an air mattress though, and if you let it, that will be far more special to you than a room at the inn ever could be. This holiday season, learn to love the imperfections, because that’s all that we are and have to offer in the end.
Jase Thornton is a local farmer with a masters in marriage and family therapy and professional counseling.
