L I F E Ñ Fa m i ly T i m e
Khama Ennis’s marriage may have ended, but that doesn’t mean her family’s happy holidays have to. M Y K I D S H AV E
always loved Christmas, a day on which they could reliably count on a captive audience of me and their father. They would wake up to gifts under the tree that weren’t there when they pretended to go to bed. Breakfast faded into a whirlwind of tearing paper,
the room a blur of happy chaos. Every Christmas of their lives, we had all been together. My daughters were 6 and 9 when our divorce became final. We were heartbroken that our girls had to live in two places. But we promised them that they wouldn’t have to decide between us for the holidays. Each year, we’d trade off hosting the festivities. In 2018, my ex-husband opted to host at his parents’ home, a five-hour drive away. He took the girls up, and I drove solo. I hadn’t been there since our separation, and when I got close, I had to pull over to cry. I’d had a warm relationship with my in-laws, but divorce leaves deep wounds, and I didn’t know
Roamin’ Holiday Catherine Hong finally cracks the case of her household’s mysterious, mobile tradition. ABOUT TEN
years ago, my husband invented a tradition he calls the Annual Christmas Walk. Shortly after our two kids open stockings, he says with exaggerated pomposity, “Children, it’s time for the Annual Christmas Walk!” They troop to the car, he whisks them away, and they return flush-cheeked, giddy, and starved for breakfast. For the first couple of years, I figured he was leading our former city kids on an exploration of the woods in our new town. Or perhaps
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he was taking them to the abandoned parcel of land across the train tracks where I, unlike their freewheeling dad, would never trespass. Though these are kids who’ve never done well with day-to-day transitions, I did notice that they always got their shoes on quickly. They even came up with a singsongy Gilbert and Sullivan–style chant: “The Annual Christmas Walk! The Annual Christmas Walk!” As the years went on, I idly fantasized that these jaunts were an excuse to buy me a
There’s bliss in finding ways to celebrate that are uniquely yours.
Khama Ennis, M.D., M.P.H., a Parents advisor, is the associate chief of emergency medicine at Cooley Dickinson Hospital, in Northampton, Massachusetts.
last-minute gift, though, of course, they never returned with anything but mysterious grins. Whatever they were doing, I wasn’t going to pry. I was usually so cantankerous by December 25 that this brief break was a bonus gift. It was only a couple of years ago that the three of them finally invited me to join them on their fabled outing. We got into the car, and my husband drove us to a nearby nature preserve. We pulled into the parking lot. Then my daughter got out and switched places with him in the driver’s seat. “Get ready, Mommy!” she squealed as she revved the engine and began to drive around the empty parking lot. After her turn, her brother
did the same. Aha! No wonder they both loved this yearly adventure. It’s a good thing they hadn’t told me, because I surely would have ruined the fun by making killjoy predictions of dented fenders. And I have to hand it to my husband: The Annual Christmas Walk will likely be one of their favorite childhood memories. It remains the best-held secret that they or their father ever kept from me. (As far as I know.) And it’s one I don’t begrudge them at all. Catherine Hong is a Parents contributing editor.
THIS PAGE AND OPPOSITE, FROM LEFT: COURTESY OF THE SUBJECT; BONNINSTUDIO/STOCKSY; COURTESY OF THE SUBJECT.
All Together Now
how things would be. Tension built inside me; I thought about turning around. The last few miles were the hardest I’d ever driven. But the visit was lovely, and the girls had what they needed. We’ve had a joint Christmas ever since. My ex-husband and I both like to sneak gifts under the tree on Christmas Eve. In the morning, the girls wake up and pretend they’re not trying to figure out what’s inside them. We have breakfast, open presents, and do all the things a traditional family does. Making this work has not always been easy or comfortable, but for us it has been worth it. Our kids’ only complaint is that they don’t get double the gifts, like some of their friends. But I consider our holiday get-togethers a definite coparenting win.
