Once upon a time, 16 years ago, I started baking cookies for the personnel at the courthouse at which I primarily practised. I also made holiday containers for the cashews I gifted with the cookies. At that time, I practised in one courthouse; there were 3 or 4 domestic relations Masters. I made approximately 5 or 6 plates and 2 platters of cookies. Daughter and Son were both still at home, and they helped, along with their friends. We made a party of it. Then, the state bifurcated family law cases, so I added the family division judges - all 5-7 of them. Then, family law judges started rotating off family more frequently, and the court added court evaluators, mediators and case managers. The number of Masters grew from 4 to 6; the number of judges, from 15 to 23. In the meantime, I stopped making the containers for the cashews, added another courthouse to my regular repertoire, and my children grew up and left home. The number of plates of cookies grew to 50, and the platters, to 7. My wonderful friends donated an afternoon to me for cookies, but except for those few hours (which I greatly appreciate) and the 15 dozen cookies that came from that time, I made the remaining 145 dozen cookies by myself. I stopped going to Christmas parties. I participated in no Christmas festivities at all, spending my holiday time watching Christmas movies and baking cookies in my kitchen by myself. After all of the cookies are made and delivered, I succumb to the flu, this year for almost 12 days. I considered giving up cookies. I told Daughter and my wonderful friends. They told me I was being stupid. No, they are not trying to kill me. Daughter will have moved back to town by next year, and she and her boyfriend will come and help. My wonderful friends chastised me for taking it all on myself, told me to delegate parts of the job to them, and offered to make some of the cookies at their homes. Cookies will be done, it just won't be done the same way it's always been done. That's OK. We'll probably all enjoy the experience more.
As I sat here in my flu-addled daze and re-read my older posts, I realized I should have been taking my own advice. Life is full of changes, whether it's because of divorce or simply the passage of time. Some traditions endure all of life's changes. Others need to be modified. Sometime, situations call for brand new holiday rituals. Yes, it is terribly sad that things don't remain the same, but the memories endure. Every year, as I unpack the cookie sheets, the movies and the cooling racks, I see the powered sugar fight, the molten chocolate battle, and the faces of all of my helpers over the years. I also see Office T in my kitchen telling me the doctors said there was no more hope. Memories are memories, good and bad. Those memories never go away, and they'll never fade. It's time to build new ones, and to have fun at Christmas again. I know my family will be grateful. How about yours? Here in the Trenches.
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