Will You Take A Little Restorative (Christmas) Spirit…?

Here it comes again with its kaleidoscope of emotion, good old Christmas… Love or loathe it… I’ve done both.  I loved it with a vengeance when I was small and my Mum made it totally magical with her tales woven with tinsel and tiny woodland critters, the tree miraculously appearing overnight, stockings stuffed with treats, and wonderful feasts.   Various versions of this played out for most of my life until I lost her when I was 39 and she was 70.  And love turned to loathing.  With every passing year Dad became more difficult, more entrenched in misery and more determined to be anti-social.  Finding Christmas Cheer was about as doable as finding toes on a fish. 

Richard’s sad passing in December of 2008 understandably annihilated any attempt at Christmas – which was somewhat of a relief, no-one expected me to pretend that year…  In 2009 my spirits were lifting as I had just “met” David online and for the longest time I felt a flicker of hope for things to come.  A bit like the Little Match Girl, I still felt as if I was out in the cold, looking in at a lovely heart-warming scene but it did rather feel as if I might have a chance of sticking my foot in the door and pushing my way in!

In 2010 we had been married for 6 months, and nothing was going to get in the way of my Happy Christmas.  David’s parents came to stay, and Dad behaved.  It was a good Christmas.  But I still missed my Mum, wishing particularly hard that she could know my lovely husband. 

During 2011 David’s parents moved up to Whangarei from Auckland, and the plan was to have Christmas at their house, along with Dad.  Christmas Day dawned with Dad having a serious gastro episode of epic proportions (happened from time to time not helped by him being a colostomy patient) and all plans were shelved.  We spent the day cleaning, with a Christmas meal in the evening at my house that David’s mother had brought over during the day.  We were exhausted, worried and not particularly hungry given the nature of what we had been cleaning up…

There followed the Christmas’s of 2012 & 2013 – made memorable only by Dad’s determination to shun David’s parents who came to us due to Dad really not being up to going elsewhere by then.  They were not merry in any shape or form, try as we did, to squeeze out a bit of cheer.  Lovely Irish neighbour Rosemary joined us for our main meal at lunchtime after church in 2012, and the evening meal in 2013 which helped “lift” spirits somewhat… but it was still just an ordeal to be got through, for me.

In April 2014 Dad died, and without wanting to beat around the bush too much we finally had a lovely, Happy Christmas that December.  For the first time in 11 years I wasn’t required to try and compensate Dad for Mum not being there.  I was allowed to just miss my Mum, without the weight of trying to relieve someone else’s grief that wouldn’t have a bar of it.

We refused to stay at home or go to David’s parents – and escaped to a five star hotel in the heart of Auckland where we swam in the pool, went to Midnight Mass at St Pat’s Cathedral, then a Carol Service at a Gay Friendly (and therefore massively enlightened) Anglican Cathedral on Christmas Day followed by a fabulous festive lunch with all the trimmings.  Another swim and a walk along the waterfront, a cheap and authentic meal at a Japanese Noodle Bar and a glass of bubbly in the hotel’s elegant bar rounded out the day, before flying south to our cottage on Boxing Day.  The whole season was festive that year although there was just this tiny amount of guilt because we knew that David’s parents would have liked to have shared our day…

Christmas 2015 was very much overshadowed by the fact that we had just sold the farm, and the huge amount of work that was needed to facilitate the exit.  However we already had plans in place and we proceeded with them - Christmas in Auckland at a hotel again, but this time with David’s parents.  It was nice enough, but if I’m honest I still felt stressed, trying to ensure they had the best time they could.  I wasn’t well either, and could barely manage the walk to St Matthews in the City on Christmas Eve for the 7pm Carol Service.  I let Dave go to Mass later with his Mum, without me.  The lunch was lovely, wonderful again not to have to do any work!  And watching silly programmes in our suite later was fun.  But I was very happy once again to board a plane on Boxing Day for the South… even though we knew there was a momentous amount to be done with the impending move upon our return in January!

And now we live in the South, albeit the north of the South, not the deep South.  We have worked hard ever since we moved here in late April at creating a comfortable home that makes the most of hot, dry summers… and this year we will swim in the pool in our own garden on Christmas Day and every other darn day!  I’m hoping for leisurely drinks in the sun on the terrace and low stress meals involving the barbeque.  And I’m set to enjoy a guilt-free family Christmas with David’s parents arriving on the 21^st for two weeks… For the first time in three years I’ve put up my tree, and decorated the house.  There will be sausage rolls and mince pies aplenty.  Italian Panetone and bubbles before breakfast… maybe a church service, maybe not.  Leftovers to pick on, and beach towels & bathers hung out to dry… and in the ensuing days, day trips to Nelson or Picton, friends dropping in, lunches at nearby wineries with the most difficult thing being choosing which one…

Ho, ho, ho!  Merry Christmas, Everyone!