Apodaca: Christmas is a time to celebrate old memories and to make new ones

My dog ate my Christmas moose.

Technically he didn’t eat it. It was more like a mauling. My husband and I returned from a night out to find my darling moose torn limb from limb — a furry leg here, another over there, stuffing exposed, its cute Christmas sweater pulled askew.

My reaction, utter heartbreak, was admittedly oversized, considering it was just a stuffed animal that was apparently way too tempting for our yellow Lab mix to resist. But my soft and cuddly moose had been a sentimental part of our holiday season for decades, its once-a-year appearance a small tradition that brought me joy. I loved that little guy.

Later, in a more rational moment, I realized that my attachment to a stuffed moose, its mangling by our dog, and my sadness over the loss of a beloved keepsake fit my overall mood this Christmas, which can best be described as a mixture of gratitude and poignancy.

Gratitude for all that I have, and poignancy because of that which I must let go.

For many of us, letting go of Christmas traditions is particularly difficult. Schmaltzy or sophisticated, laden with historical significance, whatever — our traditions define us. They give us comfort and meaning, and we care for them as treasures to be passed on to our children.

We have traditions that are drawn by our culture and society — Christmas trees, nativity scenes, photos with Santa, poinsettia plants, stockings, wreaths, egg nog, and twinkling lights signal to us that this is a special time of year.

The communities we choose to live in provide us with more traditions. Orange County has plenty to offer in that regard, from Newport Beach’s spectacular boat parade to Costa Mesa’s Snoopy House to Disneyland’s holiday lighting displays.

This year we visited Tanaka Farm’s Hikari Festival of Lights in Irvine for the first time, and we enjoyed it so much it might turn out to be a new family tradition.

That brings us to the traditions that we hold most dear — those that each person and every family embrace as all their own. They might be handed down from past generations and represent a piece of family heritage. Or they could be traditions that originated with a creative spark or a milestone achieved and were so appreciated that they were adopted as a regular part of Christmas celebrations.

For me, our Christmas tree is a standing representation of all that I love about the season. I linger on every ornament I hang, for each one holds a special memory of Christmases come and gone, places I have traveled, occasions we have marked, or pastimes each family member enjoys.

I spend hours gazing at the tree, revisiting all those moments and savoring the emotions they evoke.

There I see the ornament that my husband and I received as a gift for our first Christmas as a married couple. After nearly 40 years it still gets hung in a prominent spot.

I keep looking. Here’s another with pictures from Christmas 16 years ago. Oh yes, I remember, that was a good one.

There are some sports-themed ornaments for all the enthusiasts in the family. Every dog we’ve ever raised, including our current moose-chomping mutt, has their own ornament.

Our newest additions include a trinket I picked up on a fall trip to the Galápagos Islands and a delicate ceramic bauble adorned with a recent family photo, my 20-month-old granddaughter front and center. They now join the others we have collected and cherished over the years.

Traditions such as these can help light the way and give us a footing on which to steady ourselves, even through the most turbulent times.

But as I indulge in my journey through Christmases past and turn once again to our family’s prized traditions, there is another point I must recognize: Change is inevitable. Christmas tree ornaments might break or fall apart from age. A stuffed moose could meet an untimely demise.

But the memories and the love they represent remain.

And so this Christmas I strive to avoid clinging too tightly to tradition. Such rigidity is sure to lead to undo pressure and ultimately to disappointment.

Our lives are full of unexpected turns. Challenges arise, struggles occur. Children grow up. Family members scatter. Commitments alter plans. New friends and family are welcomed in. Others leave us. Ready or not, change happens.

Am I flexible and open-minded enough to embrace that change? I hope so. I try to. Christmas, after all, should not be dependent upon adhering to a demanding list of activities, events, and objects.

Even as my family is split apart this Christmas, even as some loved ones are sorely in need of help, and even as the world at large is in a state of upheaval, I will do my best to focus on all that I am grateful for, which is a lot. That is the star that I will follow.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all.