Ground Control to Santa Claus

Google sends readers to this blog, and when it does, I can't tell who came unless that reader leaves a comment. But often I can tell what made Google suggest starting here. Mostly, it's simply "changing traditions" or "holiday traditions change divorce." Typical cryptic Google key word strings.

Sometimes, though, the Google query reads like a prayer -- a question fully-developed, verbs and all, thrown to the Internet universe. It's as if someone locked him or herself in the bathroom with a laptop, mid-family argument:

"Should I change my traditions in our house to please other family members that are not living with us?"

OR

"I had accepted an invitation to spend Christmas with my family and then my husband changes the plan to have Christmas with his family. "

When that happens, I wish that person had stayed on the blog longer, maybe posted a comment, started a conversation. I think we'd be surprised how many of us can relate to a particular situation in some way or another. Perhaps offer a perspective.

This year, I knew we had to re-tradition Thanksgiving because we couldn't travel. I focused early, got organized, and the results were fun. But apparently NOT fun enough for a replay on Christmas morning. Everyone but me seems to want to stay at home on Christmas Day. Just the five of us -- and the televisions, the computers and Comcast.

Normally, we'd be doing that with extended family, guaranteeing conversation. Down time between brunch and dinner, with maybe walking the dog thrown in. But not this year.

My parents and sister, who have spent Christmas with us for well over a decade, aren't traveling either. They'll be in Maryland, at home, Christmas morning. My husband and I and our sons will be 3000 miles away, at home in California. This year, we're getting together in February.

Christmas morning hugs will now be emailed greetings, cell phone moments and gift card notes on packages delivered earlier by the mailman.

Call it the Holiday Decision Ripple -- my parents' decision to re-tradition is forcing change on us, too. Just like my decision in 1987 to start celebrating Thanksgiving with Aunt Caroline and Uncle Harold instead of flying home to Maryland caused my parents and siblings to take my plate off the dining room table.

I've been in denial for weeks, which explains why I only mailed their Christmas gifts today -- banking on the 2 of the 2-3 day Priority Mail. The box included a jigsaw puzzle we would normally do together, two or three of us at a time, on a table in the back of the family room, while others watched a movie or just talked. My Dad and I determined to finish it, even once the boys lost interest.

Years past, Christmas officially began when their rental car pulled up in front of our house. Now I'm not sure when to ring the bell.

So, here's my question for the Universe: "How do we fill the gap?"