blank pages

This year is the twins third Christmas. At two years old, this is probably the first one that they will have any chance of remembering to their psychoanalysts. At some point in the distant future, God willing, they will tell stories of Christmases past to their spouses and their children. Some of these stories will be comic, some tender, and perhaps some sad. These future traditions will bind us all to one another as a family. But for now at least, they are blank pages. The Christmas traditions that they will tell of so fondly have not yet been written. Christmas present will be etched into their memories as a tradition of Christmas past. I am authoring those future Christmas stories now.

Some traditions are easily achieved. I bought wonderful needlepoint stockings embroidered with their names. Claire’s has an exquisite little angel on it. William has a dreaming boy, sleeping with an expression almost as sweet and innocent as his. When I chose these particular stockings, I saw dozens of future Christmases in my mind in which they cherished them and would not replace them even though they had become faded and worn. Perhaps Williams’ will bear wounds from the new puppy that we will one day have. Or perhaps Claire’s will be singed from that time that we tried to hang them over the fire place.

Some traditions take more work. I’ve been learning to sing Christmas carols (badly) and play them (equally badly) on my guitar. I am trying to teach the twins to yell out “Christmas” when we get to that point in “We wish you a merry CHRISTMAS …” by this Thursday. Chris sings the funny harmony parts to Rudolf the Red Nosed Raindeer – I have forbidden Chris from singing the “batman smells” version. I calculate that I have about 20 years to practice my caroling before one of the twins brings a boyfriend / girlfriend home for Christmas. I imagine that future Christmas with crystal clarity. We will all be gathered around the fire place, drinking eggnog and singing. Claire will be acting like a grown up even though she still feels like daddy’s little girl at Christmas time. William will be nervous to sing in front of his young love but will be proud to bring her into the warmth of our traditions. And by that time, I will play my axe like Jimmy Hendrix.

Some traditions will arise through serendipity. Perhaps the prime rib that we are serving for Christmas dinner this year will become a life long tradition. I am open to the new traditions that will come by chance over the years. There are so many possibilities, so many ways to fill those blank pages with traditions of warmth and love.

Tags: fatherhood, Twins