Christmas has always been a magical
time of year. I remember the excitement fluttering through my body as a young
child, desperate for that last few days to pass so it would finally be
Christmas morning. I remember the gatherings with family, the endless parade of
things to nibble and snack on even when you had no room left. I remember the
reluctant trudging through the snow with family in the dark on Christmas Eve to
sing on doorsteps only to be happy we did it because of the smiles it brought
and the way Christmas was that much closer when we came home. I remember plates
of treats dropped secretly on neighbours’ porches before running like made into
the darkness before we were caught in the act. I remember wrapping presents in
a secluded location so little eyes wouldn’t see the surprise in store. I
remember barely being able to stay awake Christmas Eve until everyone was
finally asleep and stockings could be filled. I remember waking up at the crack
of dawn to get a turkey into the oven so we’d be able to have the big dinner
later that day and eating chocolates for breakfast with a mandarin
orange(healthy?) chaser. I remember
laughing about nothing and simply celebrating being part of a family. I never
thought it would be any different.
This year, thousands of miles away
from all our family, Trevor and I are struggling to capture that magic. So many
things are different. This year will likely not be our best effort at
recapturing the traditions of the past. Less than a week before the big day, we
have yet to get our cards sent. There is one wrapped gift under the tree. Today
it reached 40 degrees Celsius (which is 104 Fahrenheit). That is decidedly
unfestive. Neither of us really feels like shopping, baking Christmas treats,
playing board games…any of it. After searching for an inexpensive turkey, we
finally found one last weekend and we are determined to bake it next week no
matter what. I will make some pies; we’ll prepare all the usual feast trimmings
and share it with some friends. But it’s not the same. We are realizing there
are some key elements missing in our celebration model.
#1 FAMILY – this is the big one.
Christmas is meant for sharing. Without family, particularly children, it’s
hard to get excited. We get hooked on their imagined excitement over the gifts
we have carefully selected to show our love. We plan our activities around
their enjoyment (and interests/attention span). This year it will phone calls
and possibly skype, and some rather late packages once the rest of the parts
required finally arrive.
#2 SNOW – Never thought I’d miss
winter. But I’m realizing a lot of our Yuletide abandon is a product of the
cabin fever we have just remembered is starting. We want to show the world that
even though it’s bitterly cold, our car doesn’t want to start, and the sun is
suddenly allergic to our planet, we will not go without a fight. We will push
back the darkness with lights and decorations, parties and presents. We will
celebrate the knowledge that life is so much more than winter and the sun will come
again. Over here, the sun is in abundance right now. We’d almost like a brief
reprieve. Cooking a turkey in my house/brick oven seems ludicrous. On a day
like today I’d like Christmas dinner to be ice-cream, followed by floating in
an unheated pool.
#3 FOOD – This is also weather
related, sadly. One of the staples of Christmas is all the baking. As we ease
into summer that really isn’t a powerful urge. Without the caloric demands of
winter, overindulgence seems like a recipe for indigestion and discomfort. It
would be messy and sticky. But we’re going to keep our fingers crossed and make
an attempt next week anyway. I’m starting to think a spatch-cocked turkey
cooked on the BBQ would be genius. Perhaps next year. Of course, that would
mean finding a BBQ by next year, but we’ll see what the New Year brings.
#4 MUSIC – For the first time in
decades we are without a Christmas concert to attend. No recitals. No choir
performances. I find myself craving the outlet. I used to get tired of the
Christmas carols in Canada, the incessant repetition of Christmas music in the
stores, on the radio, even at church. Not this time. We’ve got a serious
Christmas music deficit happening and I find myself craving each chance to sing
a carol. I almost bought myself a ukulele the other day because I wanted to
learn to play it and be able to sing some carols to lighten the mood. There is
something affirming in making music that celebrates the Saviour and the love of
Christmas. I’m missing the outlet desperately.
Perhaps I need to clarify a few
things before this becomes a pathetic sombre plea for rescue. It’s really not.
We’re doing pretty well. We don’t have the resources to go mad with the décor
this year on a student budget. But I did find a cheap little tree and it’s
adorable. I did my best and it really helped bring some Christmas cheer into
the house. And I did find a beautiful nativity that makes me smile each time I
see it. And I remembered the tiny nativity I squirrelled away in a tin for the
journey over here after having completely forgotten it. It was the best
surprise ever. And we’re finding ways to gradually choose which traditions we
can manage over here and which ones need to go into storage for a while.
Adjustment is always hard. The things we will miss most are not easily
remedied. We cannot hug our loved ones. We cannot stay up late with them
watching Christmas specials. We cannot gather Christmas day and work on crafts
at the table, laughing over our efforts. But we can remember. And be thankful
we have been so blessed to have such wonderful memories and loved ones. And we
can do better next year. Because that’s
the magic of Christmas. We get to do it over and over again, getting closer to
perfect each year. And simple is always a good starting point.
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