As I took my predawn walk this morning, it started to flurry. Single, widely spaced snowflakes danced and sparkled in the street lights and I though of the joy and excitement of my granddaughters when the snow starts to fly. Which reminded me that once again I wasn’t there with them to share and bask in their delight. Which led my thought to Christmas, another moment I would miss. Most of the time I’m okay with the distance between us. After all, a few years ago when my husband retired, we cut that distance by more than half. When our children were growing up we lived much further away from their grandparents and only had “bigger than nuclear family” Thanksgivings and/or Christmases a handful of times. So this is my family’s normal, right? Between the distance, the uncertainty of winter weather and overbooked holiday travel times, we have chosen to play it safe and stay home. It’s an expensive time to travel and not something in either of our budgets. To say nothing of the logistics involved – our two elderly dogs who can’t be boarded, a husband who doesn’t like to leave the house empty especially in the winter, their four girls, two cats, three piglets and 25 – I think – ducks. No easy answers here. For us, it is the right decision. But this morning, just for a little while, I found myself longing for the situation to be different. I know I have thought about it more in the last several years because of the community in which I live. Here, high school homecoming is a Big Deal and is more for the alumni than for the current students. People grow up here and, if they leave, they eventually come back. At my church, there are two, three and even four generations of families sitting together in the pews every week. My little nuclear family feels so small sometimes. A week or so has passed since I began this piece. Thanksgiving has come and gone, along with two ER visits (one with my son and one following a fall for me) and Christmas is staring me in the face. But at least at this moment, I am at peace with having only phone or Skype calls with the girls on Christmas. Each family is different. Sometimes each year is different. But all of those different choices are valid as long as they work for (most of) the people involved. Nothing ever says this is how it must always be. I hope you take time and enjoy this season, without being overwhelmed with your to-do list. I hope you find the right way to celebrate with your family that works for you.

Carol Burris is a wife, mother, grandmother, reader, quilter, knitter, breast cancer survivor, and volunteer. She unschooled two children and continues to unschool herself. She’s managing an impossible schedule with only the shopping almost done and nothing else prepared for Christmas!