Traditions Part I

It's a common story really but mine just the same.

I (Allegra) grew up in a broken home.
Broken homes mean there is a lot of opportunity to feel and be different from your friends.
You spend half your life in one place and the other half in another.
One thing that my parents didn't allow us to feel different in though was
Christmas.

However the story goes,
this one is just mine.
Christmas always began on December 23rd.
While other kids waited another 24 hrs until they could hardly sleep
I could hardly sleep on my first of two Christmas Eves.

After a horse drawn carriage ride through a local neighborhood to see Christmas lights while sipping on hot cider and chasing Santa in the sky,
we'd lay our cookies out and anxiously await Santa's visit.

Santa was always so magical.
He would leave signs of his visit in cookie crumbs, reindeer prints in the front yard, or even notes.
He never let us down.Our handmade stockings hanging from the mantle would be filled (semi-regrettably) with tangerines and walnuts and then the presents would begin.
While Chicken-Apple Sausage and Scrambled eggs cooked themselves ;) we'd one by one open each gift just as we'd asked Santa for:
rollerblades or down jackets or new shoes.

I admit-we were spoiled.

Interruptions were welcome only when Grandma would arrive.
As tradition has it: she'd come with modern-vintage Coca-Cola bottles and the announcement that there was a candy cane tree ready to be tackled!You see, the candy cane tree is something dear to me.
Every year the tree down the street would be covered in candy canes.
My siblings and I would line up at the front door and race to the tree and see who would win by pulling down the most candy canes.
(I think I lost every year)

With wrapping paper filling garbage bags and happy kids playing with their new loot,
we'd begin the hard part...
wrapping up Part 1 and packing to fly to Part 2.
While the afternoon always held lunch at a local landmark
and a candlelight service all together
it was at the moment the flames were blown out that the tears would come.
Goodbyes were never easy.
Despite the fact that we'd always have to say goodbye from an airport terminal,
we were blessed.
Parents who didn't claim Christmas as "theirs".
Parents who bent the rules so we never had to miss out.
This is how it should be.
It's not about a specific day.
It's about when you can be a family.

What traditions resound in your heart?
{click images for source}