Christmas Time Together
A few years ago we discovered the Holiday Promenade in the East Village of Des Moines. On that first night, the shops opened late with sales. There were carolers on the corner serving hot cocoa. And the ice skating rink had its opening night with Christmas tree lighting and an appearance from the big guy in the red suit. They pulled off a pretty magnificent evening and we were hooked.
As the East Village has swelled in size over the years, so too has the resplendence of the Promenade. There are horse-drawn carriage rides, performance art, a reindeer and sleigh, ornament and wreath-making nights, snacks, Santa and the Grinch, and fireworks. I adore visiting this event as often as possible during the month leading up to Christmas. So, the second weekend of December, that is how we spent our Friday night.
Ben wanted to make gingerbread houses with a friend. So, Sam, Jeff, and I went to the Holiday Promenade. Sam and I especially delight in the mid-century modern luxuries of West Elm, so he spent some time trying out all of the chairs (and fur blankets – the kid knows his way around comfort). We shopped for a couple of gifts in the shops and then checked out the artist for the night: a display of interactive orbs which when you shined a light on them and then on your face it projected you and your background larger than life onto the orb. It was eery and fun. There were carolers on our lighted walk back up to the horse-drawn carriage where we ran out of time to catch a ride because Ben got done early. Sam got to say a quick, “Hello” to one of the horses and we vowed not to miss this next year.
Saturday was a sports day. Sam had basketball and baseball. We squeezed in some time at the library, however, where we checked out a few books and we always find things to purchase at Novel Findings. It is seriously such a steal to purchase things in that area. I shouldn’t be allowed to go in there. I am the worst kind of book hoarder – I absolutely think I can read them all.
Sunday afternoon was the big one. We surprised the boys with tickets to the Santa Express. We purchased these the day they were released and had them on the calendar all year. We have been going on this train since the boys were very small but missed going during covid and figured this was pushing it as their last year. They were game but I could tell they were on the edge of “are we too old for this?” Once they settled in, they seemed to enjoy the ride just as they always had, and Jeff and I soaked it in knowing it would likely be our last – well at least with the boys, maybe we could ride it ourselves, or if someone wants to loan us their kids.
I think there’s something to that. I miss a lot of the things we do together. I miss them being small. I miss their little faces lighting up with big smiles and looking to me for encouragement, confirmation, or just out of sheer joy, but a lot of times – I just really liked doing this stuff and it seems kind of boring to go to the zoo or the science center or on a Santa train without them. I think if I showed up at Storytime I might get some weird looks. But I really like doing that stuff. I know I’m supposed to be an adult doing adulty things and I sometimes do, but I really liked doing stuff that kids do with my kids. They don’t always like to anymore. So, we soak in these last moments and act like weirdos trying to figure out how to be the kids we are in the grown-up bodies we have.
On the Santa Express, there is singing, a story, cookies, and chocolate milk. We take the train to the North Pole. When we get there the conductor comes on and punches our tickets in a silly way and just behind him, Santa and Mrs. Claus (does she have a name?) come on the train. They stop for each child taking their wishlist and handing each one a bell – like the Polar Express (but different due to copyrights). Then we all wave goodbye to the Clauses and head back over the big bridge singing and telling jokes to the station.
I love this tradition. The drafty old train with the cheesy story and jokes. The cookies and Christmas lights. I get a little sad every time one of these things ends, knowing we are getting a little further from babyhood, a little closer to them moving away. My brother reminded me recently that right after Ben was born, I was on a lot of meds for pre-eclampsia I do not remember this, but I said to Aric, “he’s going to leave me one day”. Aric laughed about it. It does seem a funny thing to say at that moment. I remember feeling so overwhelmed with a love I didn’t know I could feel that I didn’t ever want it to leave. It scared me. I am spending my days trying to hold things more loosely, not grasping at attachments, finding ways to love and let go and grieve the things that pass, feel the sadness and let it go. Teenagers really make you feel that. They simultaneously can love so big, push so hard at limits, and pull for their individualism. It is a strange land to stand in, loving a teenager. I have a lot of gray hair lately.
But this is a story about Christmas time. And we had a great weekend savoring the time we had together.
