Dave Frank
Chief Content Officer
My family loves spring and summer. It’s their favorite time of year. Of all the fun things we do then, my favorite moments from the warmer months are the dandelions. Every day, without fail, my daughters each pick me a dandelion. Always a dandelion, every day. And they are beautiful. They give them to me with affection and pride, I hug them tightly, and display the wildflowers in my office. It’s pure love, straight from the earth, on my desk.
And while the summer is nice, Christmas is my favorite time of year. Always has been. I remember so many things from childhood that grew my attachment to it, and not just gifts, either. The songs, the tree, the food, the crafts, that specific smell that filled the house for nearly four months straight, all of it. No matter where our family found itself, we always made time for Christmas to be the best time it could be.
I remember making a vow that when I got older, I would give my children the same Christmas joy my parents gave me, and then some. Now, here I am. A father of two with that opportunity on a silver platter, and I’m certain that I’m not giving them what I swore I would.
The gifts used to be more extravagant. The outings and experiences, more plentiful and frequent. The vibes I grew to love, just aren’t the same somehow. I feel like a reverse version of the grinch, trying my best to jam decorations, cookies and presents into my house as fast as I can, yet I can’t get Christmas to come. Where’s the same magic I had, but for my kids?
The cycle seemed to just continue, year after year as my kids continued to grow older, and the imminent threat of the Christmas magic fading growing closer. Every year, I would mentally jot down all of the shortcomings, mistakes and moments of unpreparedness that had led to not giving my family the perfect Christmas. Each year, vowing to eliminate those issues and do better next December.
With Christmas 2024 around the corner, I felt that pressure again. In the middle of financial troubles, a huge move to a new home and working two jobs, how the hell am I supposed to give them the perfect Christmas? I shared my concerns and thoughts with those close to me, and received some fantastic advice:
Find your Dandelions.
My entire life I have been scheming, planning, working as hard as I can to find ways to give back to my kids. Things I never had, things I always had, things that didn’t exist when I was young, and those special “every kid needs” experiences. For so long, I’ve been so focused on how to make my kids happy, I’ve been skipping past every dandelion along the path.
Do you know why I treasure every single dandelion my kids bring me? Because they treasure them. Just like I treasured every moment, every action, every memory my parents gave me every Christmas growing up. Presence, not presents. Memories. Love. Dandelions.
If you find yourself constantly scrutinizing all the ways you could have done better during Christmas, or family vacation, or even your evenings and weekends, please know this: I do too. I know exactly why you do. I know how noble a cause it feels to seek improvement instead of satisfaction, especially for the ones you love. But you’re missing the dandelions, and I can promise you, it’s all they care about. Find the dandelions in your life, every day, and cherish those moments with them. They will remember that their entire lives.
“Maybe Christmas,” the Dave thought, “Doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas is something much more.”
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