By David Trinko
The Lima News
When I think back nostalgically about Christmas, I think about my parents’ living room.
As kids, my six siblings and I waited at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning, each in a different stage of eagerness to sprint down the stairs and open that mountain of gifts by the tree.
My dad would have a video recorder set up in the living room, ostensibly so we could show our grandparents our reactions to the gifts they’d send us out of state. We’d sprint into that room, with the youngest of us finding a spot on the floor. Then the wrapping paper started flying as we joyfully tore through our gifts to see what Santa and our loved ones brought for us.
That was our tradition. But traditions change, and that’s OK.
As I grew into an adult, Christmas became about less about the gifts and more about coming home to see my family all together again. The seven children packed into my parents’ living room and the adjoining dining room to catch up with each other, as busy lives and miles of distance kept us from knowing all the details.
I longed for these interactions when I lived out of state. I made crazy transactions with coworkers so I could fly home from Georgia or drive back from Virginia to spend Christmas at my parents’ house prior to moving back to Ohio two decades ago.
Each year, more people joined into our celebration, as people brought home boyfriends and girlfriends, then spouses, then children, then children’s spouses and now grandchildren into the mix. It became cozier and cozier, as more than 30 people crowded into that limited space. Some of the newcomers started using words like “chaotic.”
It became a bit of a family joke that the moment you got up to get in line for dinner, someone else would take your seat. The only safe seat was my dad’s recliner, simply because it was understood if he returned, you moved as a sign of respect for our patriarch.
That was our tradition. But traditions change, and that’s OK.
I didn’t know last year was the last year for Christmas at my parents’ house. Someone finally spoke up about the cramped conditions, and we realized how exhausted the day left my mom and dad.
My sisters took the lead, and they found a nice, large venue where we all actually had a seat and a place at a table. It felt so different, since we weren’t on top of each other and forced into conversations. I retreated into silence for much of it, as even my own daughters and wife were spread out far enough I felt like we couldn’t all talk to each other.
But sometimes the trouble with traditions are the people beholden by them. Eventually I softened about this new setup. I enjoyed not balancing a plate of food on my lap, trying not to cut through the plate and jab at my leg. I preferred having more intimate conversations with a person or two at a time, instead of trying to broadcast ideas across a crowded room.
Most of all, it gave the youngest attendees room to play. I joined in as my niece’s twin boys bounced a balloon around a circle, bringing joy to everyone who engaged. I watched as the flower girl for my oldest daughter’s upcoming wedding sprinted from group to group, flashing a smile and a giggle before she moved on to the next.
Even the adults had room for laughter and joy, as we tried an expansive white elephant gift game, where I believe I held six different gifts at various times before opening a reindeer-shaped neck massager that resembled an old mink but shakes like a blender on high.
Near the end of the Christmas Day event, one sister gathered the siblings to see if we wanted to keep this venue next year. We agreed it was a vast improvement of the confined quarters we’d used for years, even if it wasn’t quite as homey as our childhood living room. Still, there was room for the whole family, and that made it feel like home.
This is our tradition now. But traditions change, and that’s OK.
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See past columns by David Trinko at LimaOhio.com/tag/trinko.
David Trinko is editor of The Lima News. Reach him at 567-242-0467, by email at [email protected] or on Twitter/X @Lima_Trinko.
