Not Home for the Holidays

This time of year, images of the quintessential American family hit us everywhere we look.

Relatives are gathered around the table for a big holiday meal. Grandma is reading books as grandchildren snuggle on her lap.

That is not everyone’s reality, though. Death, dysfunction, and distance mean that many of us are alone for those treasured moments that we associate with family. Depending on the circumstances, it can be extremely sad — or a huge relief — not to have them around.

If we can put aside that Norman Rockwell ideal of how we think things are supposed to be, we can open ourselves up to the unique joy that friends bring into our lives. Friends can fill the gaps those absent family members leave in our hearts and at our tables.

Related: Great Lessons from Friends

My “aha moment” came in waves. About 15 years ago, the latest family drama had me driving home from Thanksgiving in tears. I knew then that something had to give. After my own father sabotaged Christmas through his emotional cruelty in 2008, I vowed never to spend another major holiday in my hometown.

Then, in 2010, after my first son was born and we had moved back from living overseas, I endured yet another emotional beating from my parents.

Help in the Newspaper
Somewhere in that haze of pain, I read some sage advice from my favorite columnist, Carolyn Hax at the Washington Post. A woman wrote in about her parents’ failing health and her insufferable in-laws. She was struggling with the idea of her children not having any real grandparent presence in their lives. She asked Hax what she should do.

That last-minute hodgepodge of food and people is one of the most joyous times in my memory.

Hax advised her to look around and give people outside her family a chance to fill the roles that family members typically occupied.

“What is it that grandparents (and uncles and aunties) do, after all?” Hax asked. “Primarily, they give your kids someone besides their parents to love them and feel invested in their well-being. That’s so powerful.” Hax suggested these surrogate aunties and uncles could attend school events, holiday gatherings and anything we invited family to by default.

These words resonated. They brought me comfort and hope at a difficult time.

Now, half a decade into motherhood, I’ve ditched the toxicity that some of my biological family brought to the holidays. My children affectionately call my favorite aunt and uncle “Unc-pa” and “Aunt-ma.” Last year’s Christmas dinner was with friends whose children might as well be my nieces and nephews. That last-minute hodgepodge of food and people is one of the most joyous times in my memory.

While I do adore some of my actual family, I have friends scattered around the world who share in life experiences that have created an eternal bond. They are brothers and sisters in life that just get me, quirks and all.

My best friend lives on the other side of the planet, in Beijing, China. Every time my children see her they smile and hug their “Aunt Jenn.” Her vagabond ways have taught me a lot of about embracing those near and dear to me. Her many years living overseas have forced her to accept her friends as a “substitute family.” She says the bonds are just as strong.

When she’s having a hard time, she leans on her friends rather than her parents because her friends know the current version of her better. There are added bonuses for Jenn as well. She says, “I have no desire to have children of my own. But I love being an aunty – whether it’s blood or my friend’s children.”

Julia is a Northern Virginia transplant who has no family within 1,100 miles of her current home. She says her children refer to many of their friends as aunts, uncles, and even grandparents.

Her family’s “local grandma” is friends with her children’s actual grandma. Her babies received knit blankets from a whole collection of beloved elders — related by blood or through deep friendship. Julia says, “Sometimes it’s easier to be with friends during holidays because there isn’t the same expectation as there is with family. With friends, and especially neighbors, it’s easier for me to accept them as they are and look past their shortcomings.”

The beautiful thing about being with friends around the holidays is not having to compromise. You do your own thing and hang out when it works for everyone. There are no lifelong grudges. There is no sibling rivalry or familial baggage. There is no favoritism. There is no pressure to carry on tired traditions to appease a pestering relative.

Friends are flexible. You are not there by obligation, but by choice.