My Christmas tree died a week before Christmas. The branches were weighed down to the floor in a giant 8-foot droop. The star on top tilted to the left along with the sagging sapless branches. I should have known it was a sign. I should have known it would contribute to the sadness that would settle down over my usually happy holiday home.

My daughters left my home the morning of December 19th and didn’t return until the late evening of December 26th. It was my first attempt in 14 years at not being with my children on either December 24th or December 25th.

This was my 8th Christmas as divorced mom. Surely I was a pro by now at readjusting holiday expectations and schedules to accommodate a divided family. I had several times already experienced the truth that holidays and birthdays can be celebrated with just as much joy on any day you decide. I am not sure why this time was so different.


You can find more of Angela's writing in her book Patched Up Parenting.