When Happy Memories Make Us Sad... Remember This

I didn’t want to go. My town’s annual Christmas parade is a major event, where thousands of people crowd the downtown sidewalks regardless of sleet or snow, gripping paper cocoa cups, "ooing" and "aahhing" while fire trucks and marching bands pass by, all decked in holiday lights and Santa hats.

Parades aren’t the problem. I love them, actually. They used to be my favorite thing. Back when my daughter was marching in them.

She’s a band kid. Last winter, she led her school, conducting Joy to the World in the front of the line, beaming in all her drum major glory. It was one of my proudest mom moments ever.

And then college swallowed her up.

This year’s Christmas parade was suddenly less a celebration and more a reminder of what’s missing.

Can you relate?

Maybe for you it’s not a kid gone to college but something else… a loved one lost, a move to unfamiliar surroundings, a broken relationship, a job ending. Maybe you’re wrestling with a change in your health or your hope, and what used to make you happy now just feels like a shadow of real joy.

I get that.

And yet with change comes opportunity—to make new memories, new traditions, new favorite things.

I mourned the old parade days, yes. But then last week I got to visit my daughter’s campus, to attend her college band concert, take her out for coffee and thrift shopping.

I’m not choosing Christmas gifts from the American Girl catalog anymore or even the YA section at Barnes and Noble, but I get to add a sweet boyfriend to our gift list and make space for new relationships in our family celebrations.

And thank God I wasn’t obligated this year to stand outside in frigid wind while the marching band walked by. Seriously, I’m as sappy as anybody, but let’s be real—sometimes we romanticize the stuff we loved about a season in life but also, frankly, endured for the sake of supporting our kids and making memories. My toes were perfectly happy to be curled under a blanket inside the living room on parade night this year. It wasn’t all bad.

As our kids grow and parenting changes, naturally we’ll lose some of the old norms, and it’s ok to grieve those. Our kids are every day becoming someone new, which means we are every day losing who they were to us the day before.

But who they’re growing into is exactly what God has designed all along. And we get the privilege of meeting that beautiful person day by day.

That’s what makes the heartache worth it.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens... a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4)

So this Christmas, will you celebrate with me? Seasons change, kids grow up, and I’m learning there is more beauty than sadness to be found if we just open our eyes to see it. This weekend my college girl comes home for a four-week break and I cannot wait to watch cheesy Christmas movies and bake Keto cookies and laugh at how bad the cookies taste. (Some traditions really should not be altered.)

I’m loving the perks of raising young adult kids.

Inside the house.

With the fireplace roaring.

And cocoa for the love of cocoa, not survival in the cold.

Merry Christmas, everyone. I’ll be taking a short break from the blog while my family rests in the awe of the season, praising God for the gift of His Son. We’ll reconnect in the new year… with so much to look forward to together.