The tiny twinkle of rainbow lights and the silver tinsel from the Christmas tree light up the room like Rockefeller Plaza. My family is emerged in the Christmas spirit of gift-giving as we exchange our wrapped boxes of love to one another. Dad laughs when he opens up his gift to discover another paisley tie from his daughters. My two sisters and I are overwhelmed at the amount of gifts that my parents have bestowed us this year. My mother opens her gift from my father very carefully as if not to tear the $1.50 wrapping paper. After the delicate procedure is completed, she is left holding a small velvet box in her hands. She opens the box to discover a beautiful diamond bracelet. She leans over to kiss my father, and whispers something softly in his ear. My father helps her place the diamond bracelet on her wrist, and the sparkle from the diamonds can be seen reflected in my mothers eyes.

Although I had no warning nor preconceived notions at the time, my family would never be all together again in that room exchanging Christmas presents.

The divorce was a difficult time for every member of my family. Each family member dealt with the pain in their own unique way. Sometimes it felt like a war with two sides drawn, preparing for battle. The tears of pain, disappointment and anger ran down the side of my cheeks for months after the divorce. Eventually through the years those tears were wiped away, and the situation of living with one parent instead of two became the norm in our household.

Today I feel that my parents' divorce is something I dealt with in the past, and I have moved on with my life in a new direction free from the pain. But every year when the holidays approach and the carols are sung, the tree is decorated, and the whole world is celebrating the joy of the season, I begin to feel a twist in my stomach, as I soon have to come up with an answer to the most difficult question in the world during the holiday season: Which parent will I spend the day with?

The holidays haven't had that same lure for me as they did before my parents got divorced. For me the holidays mean half. Half the day is spent with Mom, and half the day is spent with Dad. The day is divided down the middle, much like all the property and savings in the divorce settlement, between two families that used to be one. No matter how old you are or how many years it has been since your parents' divorce, the cold silence from your parent when you announce your departure to join the other parent on that holiday day is something you can never get used to.

I'll never forget my first holiday as a child from a divorced family. It was Christmas Eve, and I planned to divide the day in half by spending it with both my mother and father. The day's events started at 4 p.m. My dad, two sisters, and I went to Christmas Eve mass. The mass would be crowded, as it is every year. But this year when we arrived, it wasn't. We were early. For the first time in the history of all my Christmas holidays, my family was on time. I realized at that moment the reason why. We were not waiting for my mother, who always was the last the get dressed because she was busy preparing the Christmas Eve dinner. I sat down in the pew and spoke nothing of my discovery, for with only four people instead of five we all managed to sit in the same pew as the crowds of people poured into the church.

After the mass was over we returned home to have Christmas Eve dinner. My father prepared the meal in his "kiss the cook" apron, which has become a daily part of his wardrobe since he cooks for us every night now. The dinner looked delicious for there was corn, stuffing, cranberry sauce, potato salad, green beans and ham. Ham? We never had ham on Christmas Eve night before, we always ate turkey that my mom prepared as part of our family tradition. I guess with a new family, there comes new traditions.

As the clock approached 6:30 p.m., I felt my stomach begin to turn. As I watched the clock, I waited for the right time to excuse myself to leave for my mother's apartment. When I finally spoke, a hush of silence seemed to hover over the table as I announced my departure. No one got up from their seats, no one said a word as I left the dining room table.

I drove to my mother's house alone. The harsh and bitter feelings of the divorce still haunted my sisters, so they chose not to join me.

My mother and I exchanged Christmas presents as soon as I arrived at her apartment. The enormous amount of gifts didn't matter, compared to the emptiness that was felt in this tiny cramped apartment There wasn't even a Christmas tree in the apartment, because she felt there wasn't enough room.

We opened up the gifts pretending that everything was okay. We spoke nothing of the beautifully wrapped boxes in the corner for my sisters, nor the sparkle missing from within her eyes as she opened her gifts.

My mother and I then went to mass. Yes, it was my second time at mass for the day at the same church with the same exact priest. But I didn't have the heart to tell my mom that I already went to mass, so I said nothing.

After mass my mother wanted to go out to eat for Christmas Eve dinner. Since there was only two of us she thought there was no reason to make dinner. Although I was looking forward to eating her famous turkey dinner, I realized that she lost the joy of preparing my family's Christmas dinner when she lost my family. So I ate dinner again. I couldn't eat the whole meal, but I didn't have the heart to tell her I wasn't hungry.

After dinner with my mother, I left her apartment to go back to my dad's house. When I arrived back, the disappointing look on my father's face didn't need to be accompanied by an explanation.

"You're late. We grew so tired of waiting for you that we started to open up the gifts without you," my dad said.

I didn't know what to say to my dad or my two sisters. I knew I was late, but I stayed the extra time because I felt bad for my mother. I couldn't help but feel that she might be lonely on this Christmas Eve night if I was to leave her. I didn't explain any of this to them because I knew they wouldn't understand my intentions.

So I joined them in the exchanging of gifts near the Christmas tree in the same room we were in last year. The absence of my mother was felt, yet no one said a word. We continued on with our Christmas celebration as my father opened his gift to discover another paisley tie.

Divorce divides the family, but it shouldn't divide the heart. The holidays are a hard time of the year for divorced families. It's supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, yet you always wind up in a fight with one parent while protecting the other.

For as the holidays approach this year, I feel that twist in my stomach. I will count down the days to my decision like the rest of the world counts down the days till Christmas, and I will have to answer the old question: "Who will you spend the holidays with?"