There is so much pressure on women to make the holidays perfect for everyone. I had to accept the fact that I was unable to provide the consistent traditions that I enjoyed as a child. Instead, I learned to create memories while my pilot husband flew during the holidays.
With my husband’s flight schedule, holidays never looked traditional or perfectly planned. There were tears, and some years were harder than others. As hard as some of those years were, they became the memories we still talk about and cherish today.
Being married to a pilot meant not knowing if he’d be home
I grew up with consistent holiday traditions. My grandparents visited on Christmas Eve. We ate together, opened gifts, and my great-grandmother played the piano. I would struggle to sleep, but I would wake up to gifts with my parents and my brother. After the chaos of gift opening, we would take a drive to see my other grandparents and eat, and then open presents. Like clockwork, I knew what to expect every year.
I knew my husband would work holidays when we married. Living with that reality was more difficult than I expected. I missed the comfort of my childhood traditions. I felt sad that my kids wouldn’t share those same experiences. My dream of creating consistent family traditions was not going to happen. I could fight it and cry, or I could find ways to make the holidays fun and meaningful, no matter the date on the calendar.
Non-traditional doesn’t mean not fun
One Christmas, while he was flying, the kids and I spent Christmas morning at a Denny’s coloring. We colored pages for my grandmother, who was living in an assisted living facility. We packed our artwork and picked up some holiday treats from home. Then, we drove over for a surprise visit on Christmas morning. We had already opened gifts with her, but this was a special visit. My grandfather had passed, and she was alone. Her memory was fading, and she spent a lot of time in her little apartment. Her face lit up when we walked into the room. We spent the morning looking through old photos. She hung up the pictures the kids had brought over, and we walked around the facility saying hi to the residents. Spending Christmas morning with her is a memory that I’ll cherish forever.
That Christmas morning at Denny’s, I saw it for the first time. This wasn’t about loss or compromise. Every year, my kids experienced something new and special. This was different from my traditional upbringing. That one Christmas morning with my grandmother, I saw the opportunity. The opportunity to provide my kids with something different and unique every year.
The following year, his schedule was even worse. He was flying over Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and even a few days after Christmas. That year was tough to prepare for. We decided to celebrate Christmas on the 28th. This was tough. Kids count down to a specific date all year, only to hear that they have to wait even longer. By a stroke of luck, he had a schedule change and was able to drive home, and we woke the kids up at midnight. We opened gifts, laughed, ate treats, and went back to bed. The next morning, he drove back to the airport for his Christmas Day flight.
As the kids got older, we would anxiously wait for his schedule so that we could plan our Christmas. One year, we took a last-minute cruise, came home to open gifts, and then saw him off for his Christmas Day flights.
One year, his overnight was close enough that we were able to load up some presents and drive to his hotel. We spent the day as a family. We saw a movie, ate at a restaurant, opened presents, and then the kids and I drove home.
This holiday season will be the last with my husband flying, as he retires next year. Even though he will now be home, we will always have a unique way of celebrating.
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