3 little Inch girls at Bayswater meeting Himself, I'm on the right
'tis the season
I was getting ready to write my blog, so full of excitement (hey, I like writing my blog!) and wanting to spread cheer, but I watched the news on tv first.
Holey Moley. I felt really shallow for a while, even writing a blog. So much devastation and heartbreak in the world. It took hours to let those feelings come and go. Overnight, actually. However, my own natural optimism has come up again; so here we go.
It is the season to be jolly. Goodwill to humankind. And, for many, to everything-kind: animals, birds, fish, plants. Everything. Sometimes, though it is a stressful time, and I also have had my years of that. But times have changed for me, and I am very grateful that the whole Christmas family get together was first taken over by my daughters, and now a grand-daughter. They are all fantastic hosts and really good at the whole gathering thing.
Sadly, it won’t be the whole family, but I shall be cherishing the whole day anyway. I always get rather quiet because I am so overawed that everyone present is my descendant or their partner. Quite overwhelming and it emphasises for me the preciousness and miracle of Life, and creation.
We have only one wee person there On The Day, and his parents are hoping that those reindeer don’t leave a mess on their verandah on Christmas Eve. Like a pooh-ey mess. (But I have heard a rumour)
As a young child, we would open our (meagre) presents from Santa in the morning. Mum didn’t have much money, but we always felt that our Christmas presents were special, and we were so grateful for them. As time went on, but I was no longer living with her, she had more money for Christmas.
I vividly remember the night that we were supposed to be asleep (as if!) and I looked out of the window, hoping to see you-know-who. But it was Mrs Santa Claus whom I saw. She looked just like Mrs Everett from the toyshop at Belmont, which I knew was just a coincidence. And she was carrying presents in her arms. Oh, happy day! Then we would all go to Nanna’s on Christmas Day. The whole family would be there. I loved that cousin time. Delicious food, presents.
And when I lived with Nanna, of course it was different. More grown-up, really. And everyone in the family came that day. That was one of the occasions when Nanna would say: "fhb", meaning "family hold back". And this was referring to the food. The visiting family members didn't have to, though.
With my own first family, we would open presents and have breakfast at home, with Peter’s parents. Then go to Mum’s for more presents, then to Nanna’s. During the day with all of this rushing and sneaky quaffing of chocolates by my kids, we had to deal with them throwing up. Every year. Consequently, I do not give sweets to children especially on that day.
Of course, times changed. But the memories linger. Forever. In our hearts. With my youngest, it was quite different. I was doing communal living at that time (and no, I do not recommend it). She had to endure pre Christmas yoga chanting sessions, and they weren’t fun for the kids who came. Yeah, so I don’t recommend that, either. We did have some lovely Christmases when we were living up North, and I was flatting with a friend who had two little girls. And happy Christmases with my eldest's and their children.
My eldest have children my youngest’s age and younger. They are the new generation of adults. Providing children, hope and love and memories. How lucky am I?
Have a lovely Christmas season, everyone.