A WALK IN THE PARK Somehow, Christmas was different this year

Another Christmas morning has come and gone in our home, and it played out quite differently than it has in years past.

With all three of our children now married, it was officially “just us” to celebrate the big day. Although Earl and I have adjusted to having the house to ourselves, and even prefer the situation much of the time - sorry, Kids - that didn’t keep me from missing the Christmas mornings of the past when the whole family was still at home.

With just the two of us, the start of the day felt so “grown up” and usual, so quiet and unhurried. We sat at the bar in the kitchen as we do on any ordinary morning. We did wish each other, “Merry Christmas,” but other than that, most of our conversation consisted of the few words necessary to successfully swap sections of the morning newspaper as we sipped our coffee.

After several minutes, Earl got up and headed down the hallway. He came back carrying a couple of gifts and put them on the counter in front ofme. Now with caffeine in my system and the gifts set before me, it was beginning to feel a little more like Christmas - nice, but still not the same.

Now it was my turn. I headed for the hall closet but could only present one gift because, quite frankly, I couldn’t remember where I had hid the second one. After a few minutes of searching, the missing box was located and our gift exchange completed.

Even with this delay, it was still much too early to call the “kids” I was missing. One has a new baby, one a new home, and the other a new wife and they all needed “their own time” this Christmas morning without being interrupted by a ringing telephone.

So, here I was. Christmas Day had barely started and I was already twiddling my thumbs. For lack of anything better to do, I reached for my laptop and checked in on my Facebook friends. I soon learned I wasn’t the only mid-life mama with time on her hands this morning. Several had already posted comments and I found a little comfort inknowing that I had some company on this quiet Christmas morning, via my Facebook friends. Judging from the sentiments shared, it seems we empty-nested women were all longing for similar things: the noisy excitement of Christmas mornings; those days when early-rising, pajama-clad children waited impatiently for things to get rolling. We missed little ones that couldn’t wait to peek into their stockings to see what surprises Santa had left them. We wished to see the joy on their little faces as they ripped open the packages. And, yes, even the mess left behind by scraps of brightly-colored gift wrap strewn around the living room would have been a welcomed sight.

I know the “real” meaning of Christmas hasn’t changed at all, but something else has, and that’s the way Christmas morning looks in our home now that the family has grown. It is certainly quieter, less hectic, and a lot less effort now than in the past, but I would have to agree with my fellow Facebook friends. Christmas morning just isn’t the same without kids.

Annette Rowe is a freelance writer from rural Gentry and a speech-language pathologist at Siloam Springs High School. She may be reached by email at awalkinthepark50 @ yahoo.com.