I grew up in South Florida where seasonal changes are barely noticeable, but the winter holiday season was always a favorite in my small family. My mother love Thanksgiving because it had no religious connotation and our Catholic and Jewish friends and family could celebrate together. I loved Christmas and Chanukah; not just for all the gifts but also for the pageantry. The colors, the lights, and staying up past midnight on Christmas Eve to open beautifully wrapped presents.

When my mother died in May 1992, I spent time going through her belongings, deciding what to keep for myself, what to give to her sisters and friends, and what to donate. In the end, much of what I donated included the  Christmas décor she had collected over the years. In the wake of her death, I couldn’t bear to celebrate the season without her.

Reclaiming Joy

Years later, after marrying into a Catholic family and creating new rituals to mark the season, I rediscovered joy for the holidays. First, I reinvented New Year’s Eve. No longer able to tolerate late nights, drinking, and large crowds due to the progression of myotonic dystrophy, I began a tradition of an open house on New Year’s Day. My spouse and I would make homemade bagels the night before and welcome as many as 50 people throughout the day.

As my energy waned, we had to give up our open house. Initially, I mourned the loss of yet another tradition, but that grief morphed into accepting loss as part of a season where flora turns from green to brown and sheds. And my thoughts turned toward those less fortunate than myself.

Nourishing Others

Eventually, I hatched a plan to spend Christmas Day handing out presents to homeless people. I wrapped packages of newly purchased warm hats, socks, gloves, personal hygiene products, and non-perishable foods and loaded up our car to distribute the gifts to people living in tents under highways and to those asking for handouts in the streets. In previous years, I volunteered delivering meals to homebound people and serving dinner to the homeless at a church, but I’d never done anything this direct before.

Expanding Our Circle

At first, we didn’t tell our friends about our new tradition, but a few years ago I initiated a Give a Little, Take a Little party and now a larger community is part of our holiday ritual. We start with a small gathering of friends at our house, who sift through reusable and recyclable items. Once they choose what they want they leave a cash donation in a giant glass bowl on our dining room table. We deliver the cash and other gifts to the homeless on
Christmas Day. Some friends now bring additional donations of toiletries, sleeping bags, and other items for distribution.

Honoring the Past, Celebrating the Present

I continue to cherish the memories of childhood holidays with my mother while also appreciating the rituals I’ve created with my new family. 

Leslie Krongold, EdD, lives in Alameda, CA, where she leads support group meetings for the Myotonic Dystrophy Foundation. She also writes a blog and produces a podcast series called Glass Half Full.