The lunch is cleared away and with our bellies full, we waddle back to the couch and settle down. Christmas is almost done and the habitual, niggling sense of loss creeps in. We have to wait a year more for this again. The entitlement that lets us hope without a second thought still lingers. But we know it is no more so.We know we absolutely cannot take any day for granted. We might not have had an empty chair at our table today, but we sure do know families that did. We might have escaped unscathed with our immediate family intact, but we definitely have lost members of our extended one.
When I got married and came here, I had to create my own set of Christmas traditions. Somethings old but some things new too. I brought my recipe for murukku but created my own version of fruit cake. With kids, new traditions crept in and older ones were wordlessly sidelined. Making new friends altered some of them and made new ones too.
Some traditions stood the test of time, some failed at that. Midnight mass was one such thing! Having young kids made it difficult to attend the service and gradually we started attending the Christmas eve mass. That one has stuck.
And then the Virus came...
Church became a distant dream and online service sustained us. But our church gradually eased back into services with extremely limited and carefully distanced laity. Services were modified so that people did not say peace and there was only communion offered. And there was absolutely no singing. For someone who went to Catholic school and sang her heart out and was in the church choir from age 10, that was torture. But beggars can’t be choosers and acquiesce we did. We have gone back to Saturday services as usual. And we signed up for Christmas eve mass and got in!
And the best part? Music! They sang. It was a soloist, but hey, she is the music director and sings wonderfully. And every hymn you ever want to hear at a Christmas service? Yes, it was sung! I was in tears at the simple joy that such a thing could give you. And then it hit me, the value of things are better understood when you have them no more. This statement has been made only a million times, but what those things were, has always been open for interpretation. Not any more. Oh, no! Small, seemingly insignificant things, things we assume will always be around..nope. A very close friend was looking at me from a distance and going ,” Wish we could hug!”..but no, damn it, we can’t.
Christmas lunch was a small family affair. We usually have friends over and it is a noisy affair with lots of laughter and good natured ribbing and cocktails and fun. Much more tamer one this time. That we were safe and sound in the security of our home with a table laden with food was a luxury not afforded everyone. That was a sobering thought. So what if it was a more restrained festival, it still had the spirit of the times. Joy and goodwill to all.
As much as I never want to celebrate a Christmas like this again, once in a while, we need a Christmas like this to remind us , that life is actually made up of tiny little nothings that add up to a mega experience, every tiny cog, screw and washer moving us along, and the loss of one might seem like a little thing, but it matters, every little thing. Stop and smell the roses, be impulsive, take a break, don’t look longingly at the last cookie, eat it.Watch a game you hate, with your kid because he wants you to. Listen to music loudly because your kid likes it.It might drive you to distraction, but he will treasure that memory. Watch a movie you don’t want to but your hubby would like to watch with you.
And yes, enjoy the ride as much as you can, because life is not just the good, but the bad, the ugly, the sad, the thought provoking, the funny, the crazy, the amazing, the sublime and yes, the stay six feet away from me too!
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