THE NARRATIVE ARC
I Traded Kid Time During My Divorce
Turns out holidays are more than religious events
As I prepare for my twin sons’ first winter Christmas, I can’t help but marvel at life’s unexpected turns. In just a few weeks, my eighteen-year-old boys will trade their Australian summer for Texas winter, and I’ll finally share the holiday I gave away fifteen years ago. To understand the weight of this moment, you need to know how a Jewish father who once dismissed Christmas as “just another day” came to cherish it so deeply.
In the sterile conference room where my marriage officially ended, I made a decision that haunted me for fifteen years. The mediator worked through our custody arrangement for hours before we reached the holiday schedule. I was exhausted and emotionally drained as this process had dragged on for months, negotiating every minute detail of our children’s future.
The mediator brought up Christmas, a holiday that — as a Jew — I had little connection to.
“Take Christmas. It’s yours,” I said. My ex-wife’s eyes widened slightly — perhaps she understood, even then, what I was giving away.
It was a sentence I would regret for the next fifteen years. But that’s how divorce works — we make decisions in the fog of emotional…
