Today we continue our Holiday Season Extravaganza.  Between now and December 25, we will share what it means to celebrate the holidays — Life in Pencil style.

Posted by Anne

Sometime in the mid-90’s, a movie called Home for the Holidays was released. I saw it, as I saw pretty much any movie (what else are you going to do when you’re 15?)  It was all about the conflicted emotions that arise from traveling “home for the holidays” as an adult, complete with the usual clichés about dysfunctional families and unfortunate holiday side dishes.  I can distinctly remember my reaction at age 15.  It was something along the lines of…I don’t get it. After all, my family has always been pretty normal.  My Mom’s cooking rocks.  I got a break from school, so the holidays were pretty hard to beat in my book.

But apparently somewhere in the past decade and a half…I grew up.  There’s still no (majorly) dysfunctional family to speak of, and these days I do so much of the cooking that I only have myself to blame if it stinks.  But the “conflicted emotions” part?  Yep…I can relate.  Let’s see if I can break it down…

What I Love about being “Home for the Holidays”:

• Being in the town that raised me.  Seeing the same houses, with the same lights that have been framing their doors for years.  Being surrounded by memories.
  
• Eating.  For me, there is nothing that screams nostalgia, comfort, and location the way food does.  My favorite burger joints.  The café where we’ve eaten our eggs and toast for years.  The look and smell of the neighborhood grocery store. The food is comfortable…even if my jeans become a little less so by the end of the visit.
• My family.  The feeling of being amongst people who know you better than you know yourself.  Of being around people who anticipate your moods, and cherish every word you speak.
• The conversations.  With my family, in front of a huge fireplace with a likewise huge mug of coffee, I have some of my favorite conversations.

Where I Struggle:

• Packing.  Insecurity alert!!  Despite 10 years of post-high-school maturity, I revert to age 14 when I pack to visit my hometown.  I mean, what if I run into that girl who acted nice but sorta also hated me in high school…don’t I need to wear that one pair of pants that makes me look the thinnest?  And why on earth aren’t they clean?!
• What do I call it?  Do I still call the town that raised me my “home”?  More often than not, “home” is the place I live currently…the new town where I share my sweet and happy life with my husband. He is my home. And yet, there’s something about the connection with my hometown that will always make it…on some level…my home.
  
• The knowledge that my parents miss me.  That I miss them.  Knowing that the friends who still live there miss me too.  Knowing that a life there is as simple as finding a job (okay maybe not that simple).  Knowing that I didn’t choose the place that chose me for the first half of my life.  And sometimes I wonder why.
• The knowledge that this town that raised me—that I’m still so fond of—doesn’t “fit” quite the way it used to.  Seeing its flaws…seeing the way it brings old parts of myself back to the surface.  Parts of myself I was happy to leave behind.  The knowledge that living there year-round would bring its challenges too.  Knowing that I’d miss my current home, with its winding rivers and misty skies.

In case you're wondering, it's incredibly difficult to find google images of "conflicted emotions".

It’s an emotional game of Twister.  And it’s hard.  I’ve been thinking about this question of “home” and “location” since Elizabeth’s post a few weeks ago.  There are no easy answers when it comes to finding a sense of “home”.  But when I think of the holidays, I have to admit—the traditions, the people, and the community made it what it was…not the town.

And there’s another reason it’s on my mind.  This year, for the first time in my life, I will not spend Christmas with my parents or my sister.  I will be miles and miles from my southern-midwest roots.  It will be my opportunity—with Ryan—to begin creating new holiday traditions that fit us.  That we’ll come to associate with “home”.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Do you stay put for the holidays, or do you travel to another place…maybe where you grew up?  How is it?  Hard or easy?