Fumbling towards Christmas

I always liked Christmas. As a Christian I was drawn to Christ. I didnt really identify with the cross. Violent, sacrificial death never really resonated with me. Being vulnerable, giving things up, these were themes I could relate to. So how you might ask does this relate to my family. Well, I have always loved Christmas and it always seemed like the time where you prove your metal to your children. How well do you know them enough to provide them with a meaningful and satisfying holiday. Yet if you would go back in your memories to sitting near your folks and could look through that facade and see how truly afraid they really were, you might think differently about Christmas.

What I am saying is that expectation and reality are probably the most universal struggles we have as human beings.

I am well versed in expectation when it comes to parenting because I have given enormous effort to analyzing my father and all that he said and did. There is a certain need one has when a person dies to "close up shop" in terms of your relationship with them. To forgive old transgressions, reflect on the good the bad and the ugly. And when all is said and done to settle the memory of that person in a comfortable place in your mind where it can provide nourishment for your soul. Doing this with a parent is particularly hard. My father was a man of many gifts and with many faults, all of which were on display most days of his life. This closing up shop has been a long process. But the shop is reopened in a unique way. I am now dad. Gerald Vogt, father, sales man...he rides again in a sense only now Tig is the driver. I find myself with unique parallels. Sons who look to me with great affection. A devoted wife who is my best friend. A faltering will, steeled with a sense of resolve.

To take this illustration and bring it more real. My oldest son, Azariah, is in competition with his brother. The winner gets attention. The loser is ignored. This competition is a reality of siblings. Cain and Abel felt it, Jay and I felt it, Azariah and Kerean will feel it. So I wonder to myself how do I manage this? How did Dad manage it? Did he do it at all? Did he fail?

These questions I find are pervasive in everything you do as a parent. What are my expectations? The reality is often quite different. The sense of self-perception Azariah has or Kerean will be there own. I dont own it and I never will. But that doesnt mean my efforts will not echo and sometimes scream through them.

So thats it. Forgive me this bought of melancholy dear readers. Thoughts prevade in my head and I rarely have a chance to share them. Dont let my children know when Christmas comes around and they are happy, how afraid I was of failing them. Dont let your kids know that either. They figure it out just fine, take my word for it.

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