Reflections on a different Christmas Eve

This Christmas Eve morning, I am relieved of the urgency, anxiety and excitement that has marked Christmas Eves for most of my adult life. As a newspaper editor, I knew that Christmas was usually a slow news period, but it was also a busy time as the staff worked extra hard to find newsworthy stories and to lay out additional pages mandated by extra holiday advertising. Like all holidays, Christmas at a newspaper required doing extra work in advance so that holiday editions and post-holiday editions could be filled.

For the first time in 33 years, I am out that madness, and I am both relieved and disappointed. The adrenaline rush was part of my holidays, and the satisfaction of pulling together as a team to accomplish what often seemed impossible was rewarding, once it was over.

This week I realized that I had achieved a remarkable record for someone in a business that almost never rests: I never missed a Christmas morning with my children while they were growing up. I never missed a Christmas with my mother's extended family while my children were young. For most of my career, I saved a vacation day to take the day after Christmas, allowing me to travel Christmas morning, spend the night, exhausted but satisfied, at my parents' home and return home on the 26th. I gratefully realize how fortunate I am to have that record.

This year promises to be different, and not just because I am not employed. Our children, who have "come home" to Wilson for at least a part of Christmas Day each year, will not all be able to spend the day here this year. My wife and I will be alone Christmas Eve night — unusual in itself — and Christmas morning. The night and morning will be something akin to being married without children — a status we have not known for 37 years. If only we were still young ...

This Christmas will be different, but many things will be the same, as is always the case at Christmas.