Christmas has always my favourite time of the year – ever
since I was a child where there were all of the joys of decorating a Christmas
tree, watching Mary Poppins and Oliver!; the anticipation of Father Christmas
coming down our chimney after midnight and trying to stay away to hear him, but
always suddenly waking up at dawn and running downstairs to see what presents
lie waiting for us under the stairs. School plays and The Snowman, two weeks
off school and the time to read and write and relax… Then later, Christmas
parties and shopping for gifts, midnight mass and the smiles of goodwill from
even the grumpiest of people; the smell of pine and vanilla and gingerbread and
the excitement of a snowfall on Christmas Day. Searching for childhood
Christmas movies in France and the delight of finally finding Scrooge on VHS,
making Christmas playlists and wearing Santa hats outside; Christmasses spent
away from family, trying to recreate the same atmosphere and happiness and
never actually making it work; Christmasses spent traveling to be with family
because that is the only place where it feels right. Christmasses in England,
in the Netherlands, in France, in Israel, in California, in New York…
Last year I failed at Christmas. I didn’t plan anything
properly and ended up staying in New York, alone, with no real plans except for
maybe cooking a meal for everyone who didn’t have a place to go. I put the old
fake Christmas tree up on Christmas Eve, spent the weeks before trying to get
into a Christmas spirit by playing my favourite Christmas songs everywhere (and
making everyone else play them too), drinking many a Christmas shot of Powers
and buying gifts and sometimes losing them along the way. Christmas Eve was
lovely, spent baking cookies and watching movies with a friend… Christmas Day
came with people too hungover to come over for dinner, so luckily my friend
invited me to other friends’ house, people who just added a chair to the table
and made me feel welcome. Even though all ended well, I was determined to never
spend Christmas in New York without my family again.
Fast forward to today, a year later, a year full of ups and
downs and big surprises, and I am spending Christmas here, this time planned
and with the same anticipation that I had when I was younger. Next year C. and
I will be celebrating our baby’s first Christmas – this year we are celebrating
together as a family for the first time. There is something really, really
special about showing the one you love all of the different traditions you have
at Christmas… Starting with the Christmas tree. I was really intent on getting
a real tree this year. I’ve tried to do it over the past few years, and have
always failed for some reason, but this year I was determined it would happen.
On Tuesday night C. came home from work brandishing a beautiful Christmas tree
(at 2am – because tree stands are open 24 hours in this city), and we spent
Wednesday decorating the apartment and the tree with lights and baubles and
Christmas music. This will be my last Christmas in this apartment with B, so we
are planning on spending it all together, cooking and watching movies and
relaxing, and just being cozy while it is probably going to be freezing and
snowing outside. Remember that blizzard that started on December 26th
a few years ago? Bring it on!!! Snow angels and snow men and snowball fights!
Although I should probably find another winter coat soon, as this one isn’t
going to close for much longer…
And once Christmas is over and the New Year has been rung in
it will be time to seriously relax, save as much money as possible, find a new
apartment, and finally welcome our little girl into this world… All part of
this new adventure that is honestly the most amazing one that I have been on in
my life.
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