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Ah, yes, Christmas.  Time to gather round the yule log with a glass of thick eggnog and sing some Christmas carols.  It’s a time of cozy good cheer—and presents!

Every family has their own Christmas traditions, some of which date back generations to their grandparents or great-grandparents.  Others are new traditions.  That’s a bit of a paradox—a “new tradition”—but all traditions started as some newfangled innovation at some point.

I’ve not lived very long—just nearly thirty-nine years now—but I have been around long enough to see the gradual (and sometimes sudden) morphing of Christmas traditions to accommodate new realities.  When I was a child, Christmas Day followed a predictable pattern:

• Presents with my brothers and parents in the morning
• A late, hearty breakfast at my maternal grandparents’ house, followed by more presents
• Dinner at my paternal grandparents’ house, and again with more presents

It made for a very fun Christmas—and not just because of the presents!  My paternal grandparents had five children, each of whom had two or three kids (with the exception of one uncle, who remained a bachelor until later in life).  Some of those kids—my cousins—went on to have lots more (one of my cousins has given birth to at least ten children; we’ve lost count at this point).  But before all those great-grandchildren were born, we still had a lot of cousins running around at my paternal grandparents’ relatively small house.  It was fun.

Inevitably, we’ve grown up and started families of our own (or, like yours portly, I’ve remained a bachelor, my only “child” being an overweight purebred dog; I’ve really embraced modernity in that regard).  I’m extremely blessed to have my maternal grandparents still, but both of my paternal grandparents have passed (Papa in 2005, Mama in 2012).  Those changes have meant changes in Christmas traditions.  My plethora of cousins and their God-given fecundity have necessarily meant that the focus has shifted to their families.  My aunts and uncles are now grandparents, and they have their own Christmases.

So, what of Portly’s immediate family?  What of our yuletide celebrations?

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