I always post our Christmas letter on the blog to archive it for our family. So here it is...
Here I sit, less than a week before Christmas, hoping to
finally get “write the family Christmas letter” off my to-do list…and into your
mailbox. As I was contemplating how to
approach this year’s letter-writing task, I tried to come up with the perfect
way to share the relevant events from this past year in our life, but each idea
I had just didn’t seem quite right.
At first
I thought a Christmas poem might be kind of fun.
I could rhyme
about each kid and how my husband likes to run.
But 3
lines in, I realized that a poem would be too hard.
I
quickly scrapped the poem idea and decided to just send a...picture.
Then I pondered, “Could I write a Christmas letter that is
nothing but questions?” Would that be catchy
and different? But what is relevant
information to share in a question-y Christmas letter? Does everyone already know that Zach still
works at State Farm or that I still work at the Children’s Hospital? Is it really necessary that people remember
the ages of Staley (almost 12), Adelie (9), and Briggs (7)? And what’s the best way to write about a week
at Universal and Disney, an east coast road trip, or our annual extended family
beach vacation in Michigan in question form?
Truthfully, how much of a question filled Christmas letter can be
completed before it just becomes super annoying? Maybe about a paragraph?
I know in the past I’ve written the letter from our cats’
point of view. Unfortunately, we had to
say sad good-byes to our almost 20 year old cats, Jake and Elwood, around Christmas
last year, so they are no longer around to write the letter for us. I contemplated writing from the perspective
of the family vehicles that keep the road hot driving the kids to all their theater
rehearsals, lessons, school activities, church functions, and sports. Our van has ventured with us throughout the
year on road trips to St. Louis, Chicago, Cincinnati, Michigan, Shawnee
National Forest, and 9 different states on our way to Acadia National Park in
Maine. But the vehicle’s perspective on
our family is mostly limited to the constant requests for snacks, hours of
audio books, a Pavlov-like need to chew gum as soon as the seatbelts snap, and endless
questions about how much longer until we reach our destination. I’m not sure that’s the best perspective through
which to view our family’s year.
Of course, I could resort to the social media inspired
Christmas letter that simply paints a perfect picture of our family. I could share about Zach’s role in leading
the Eureka to Peoria St. Jude Run to a record-breaking fundraising goal this
year or about how Zach and a friend started a race timing business. I could give detailed accounts of the number
of miles we’ve run as a family throughout the year, roles my kids have performed
in their various plays, the skills Adelie has mastered in her tumbling class,
the creations that Briggs built with his Legos, or the quantity of books the
kids have collectively read.
Unfortunately, for each glowing report from our family home, I could
pair it with stories about sibling arguments and parent frustrations and neglected
housework and that one time we forgot to pick Briggs up from his activity. Since painting a picture of nothing but successes
and perfection would be disingenuous, I better scrap that idea too.
In the end, I guess it’s best for me to just write a
standard Christmas letter telling you that we’ve had a year full of various kid
activities, fun family vacations, and mostly good times at school and work mixed
in with the everyday struggles of an imperfect family of 5. We’ve been healthy and busy and happy and loud
and active and tired and blessed. We
thank God for the perfect imperfection that this year has been, and we thank God
for each of you. Wishing you a very
merry Christmas and a perfectly imperfect 2023.
With love,
Ellen, Zach, Staley, Adelie, and Briggs
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