The Christmas Control Conundrum
Plus home comforts for the sick & homesick and what really matters...
It’s Sunday the 22nd. So we’re now less than 48 hours away from Christmas! And as we’re spending Christmas with my in-laws, we celebrate on Christmas Eve with the same gusto as Christmas Day as my MIL is Norwegian (and the Eve is a bigger affair than the Day in the Nordics), we’re pretty much on the 24 hour countdown. Yikes!
While my festive to-do list has been largely checked off there still seems to be a long list of finishing touches this Christmas Groupie wants to accomplish. And suddenly, bed bound and unwell, I realise my busyness and dedication to the perfect Christmas has been, in part, masking my longing to be with ALL my loved ones at Christmas…
Christmas Control
I admit, it’s not all under control. In fact very little is. I’m a last minute present shopper and wrapper. But I lean into and rather love that. Carols on high volume while wrapping with a mince pie for sustenance, and the odd dash outside in slippers to catch the delivery driver, spirits high amongst all the excited chaos. The early December overwhelm has passed (I felt it keenly this year) and we’re on the home straight. It was all coming together rather nicely. I was managing the raging homesickness (trying not to be triggered by messages from the beach and the incredibly big blue sky at my sister’s farm) and the thought of not seeing my Aussie family for Christmas by keeping very busy and getting well and truly in the holiday spirit - then I got ill. Hosting a sleepover for my son and 11 of his friends the week before Christmas probably didn’t help things. But as is my life motto, go big or go home and at Christmas too!
So there I was, smugly taking 3 of my children to the cinema on Friday. I mean only a woman with Christmas under control could go and spend hours in the cinema, right?! I slept almost all the way through and could barely drive home I felt so rubbish - a mystery migraine / flu descended and all plans have come to a grinding halt. And my littlest has the same or similar, we are cosied up in bed together. The Christmas drinks postponed, the presents piling up still unwrapped, washing also piling up, food to buy and prep, the wretched elf on the shelf to be moved…
That’s the thing about life, and Christmas too - you just can’t control it. No matter how hard I try to stay on top, the reality and the sheer power of life always comes back to remind me (chuckle at me) that I am absolutely not in control and I will simply have to pivot, or lower expectations, or be forced to pause; and reminded that all the items on the to-do list don’t really matter, they really don’t! All that matters is being together with those you love, loving those from afar, and those that are no longer here, and realising how good you have it (and that thankfully the turkey is ordered).
At the height of my mystery malaise I started imagining I was terminally ill (does anyone else do that?) and that really was a very good wake up call to just let go of all the things - the pretty present wrapping details; the need to be entirely equal with all the children’s presents; the cranberry and dried orange garlands Willow Crossley seems to create so effortlessly when I can’t even thread the bloody needle; to let go and be grateful in the moment. And to also accept that I cannot call or message all of my favourite people before Christmas and that actually they’ll be too busy for that anyway! (Yes I’m a sentimental fool and feel oddly superstitions about the need to wish everyone a Happy Christmas.)
The desire for control over Christmas is a bit like the rush to shop for everything you may possibly need for a holiday abroad when realising you can actually get by with very little, even when your luggage goes awry. The holiday will go on. Christmas will absolutely go on, however healthy, prepared or not, we are. Life goes on, the days fly by, seasons come and go. Boxing Day will be here before we know it, then that strange nothing-y time between Christmas and New Year (I call it Twixmas and my children cringe) when the pace settles and one wonders whether to pick it up again or just wallow in holiday mode pondering a resolution or two while contemplating another left over morsel of ham and mince pie; and in my case planning my new year travel that includes Australia without exception…
All That Really Matters
In relinquishing the choke hold of Christmas after being forced to slow down, I realise that none of the pomp and pageantry mean a thing without the people to celebrate with. Obvious, yes, a little cheesy, perhaps. But the competitive commerciality of Christmas and the busy-as-a-badge mentality means we are often so fraught with the lead up we can forget to create enough space for the memories to unfold, for the magic to appear, for the traditions to translate.
Since well before meeting my husband, I’ve had Christmases abroad and away from my family in Australia (backpacking in Bruges was a memorable one!) and since we’ve been together, we’ve rotated between Australia, England and Norway - worlds apart yet with similar traditions with only the weather being the stark divider. We both love each other’s families and our Christmases spent with in-laws but do long to have everyone together. However distance, taking turns with siblings in-laws, and illness means, like every family, we have to compromise and, of course, focus on our own family and forging our own traditions.
Coming from a family who made a big deal of Christmas, I long to be with my sisters and their children, and with my own mother and for her to be reading Twas The Night Before Christmas with my four-year-old instead of me. My mother, Elizabeth or ‘Lib’, who my youngest calls ‘Pink Granny’ for reasons unknown, always brings the magic and even though she has succumbed to dementia her face lights up when she sees her youngest and 10th grandchild; with whom she spent months when she was born, holding her between my feeds and just being with her - a comfort to her after losing my father only months before. We will try to speak on Christmas Day but it’s very difficult to communicate and connection can sometimes be prompted by all rather than just some of the senses, not to mention the time difference. I know she knows me when I’m there in front of her, holding her hand, but through a screen or on the phone is challenging, frustrating and upsetting for both.
This video - admittedly an ad for Chevrolet - really got me. A tearful, Christmas ad if ever there was one but a warm reminder of the challenges of dementia and the little lightbulb moments you live for…
Missing loved ones at Christmas is a feeling shared by many and for some, it’s missing the person they were, while still having them in the same room. And though painful, it builds collective empathy and understanding and reminds us the holiday season is about family, love and all the generations. I’m fortunate to have memories of very happy Christmases to pass on to my children. I will be going to church to sing my heart out on Christmas morning and pray they have O Come All Ye Faithful and Hark The Herald Angels Sing to remember my Mum and Dad’s favourite Christmas hymns respectively, and the love and magic they poured into the traditions of family Christmas with their girls at home.
Right then, enough reminiscing and contemplating Christmas from the sidelines, it’s probably time to get up, get dressed and join the festive countdown.
For the sick and homesick this holiday season, and for those, like me, who are missing loved ones, try to let go and indulge a little - it’s your holiday time too so why not just lose the guilt, the endless to-do list and just be … in lazy, wintery, spoily home comfort. Have some you time and make some memories. Lie in bed and read a book, watch two movies in a row with your children, write a letter to a loved one you miss, stay in your pyjamas all day, play boardgames and go for walks with your Christmas cohort, have a bath at 2pm, create a magical table setting, dress up for the main event, eat a pannetone for breakfast etc…
HAPPY CHRISTMAS to you and yours, sending so much love to anyone missing someone this Christmas, and remember, all you really need is love, a full tummy and a grateful heart.
E x
Singing with you, from afar, my darling sister & one day we will all share Christmas together! ❤️💚