CHRISTMAS

I was behind schedule more than usual this year. The only thing ready for my family’s arrival on Christmas day was the ragout (the traditional Quebecois dish for the season), and the tortières (meat pies), both prepared and put in the freezer last Sunday. And the tree, which my friend had been gracious enough to install and decorate, because I was seriously wondering where I would find the time to do it. Now, on early morning of December 24th, my normal enthusiasm for the season was at an all-time low. One day left, no shopping done, and the cold/flu I’d been battling for the past few days was winning. I could think of nothing better than huddling in my warm bed.

“Let’s get a move on.” My friend was standing at the door which joins our homes, holding out a cup of coffee. Seeing my expression, he grinned. Not very sympathetic. “A little effort,” he said, “You’ll feel better once you get dressed and out.”

He was right, of course. Together we combed the stores, found everything on our lists, and even managed to pick up groceries – all in record time. There were many, many shoppers mulling around, but everyone was smiling, including the service people, and it was infectious. By 4:30 PM the last of our packages were in my truck, and it was finally ‘beginning to feel a lot like Christmas’. My friend was driving, and I had no complaint when he stopped at a favourite restaurant. We found ourselves alone in the dining area, with an exceptionally cheerful waitress, delicious food, and it was exactly what I needed to complete the transformation. The Spirit was back.

So, everything was ready when my family showed up on Christmas day. The youngest grandchildren (5 and 2 ½ years old), eyed the colourful array Santa had left under the tree, but managed to wait without too much fuss until all the Uncles and Aunties showed up, adding more presents, which the jolly old fella had left at their houses the night before. The excitement built up until, finally, Uncle B., Santa’s designated helper, gathered us around for the distribution. Paper went flying through the air, under the table, into the couches. Due to over-zealous unwrapping of ANYTHIING by our two youngest participants, some of the gifts were held up for inquiry as to who they were for, and the giver laughed and called out the name. It was pure bedlam – and I loved every minute of it!

We surrounded the table and feasted, camera flashes still catching many of us unaware. Then a precious highlight of the evening – the little guys were put into the jacuzzi for their bath. I think the whole family crowded into the bathroom at one point, laughing at their antics as they swam in the bubbles, their happy, little faces radiating surprise, a bit of apprehension, then sheer joy when the water jets were turned on by Dad. Another memory for M’mère (me) to hold in her heart, and one that will put a smile on her face for years to come.

By 10 PM the house was quiet – it was already way past bedtime for the little ones. My friend, who had spent the day with his own family, knocked on the door, then entered to share a nightcap. We sat by the fire, the dogs at our feet, the Yuletide music (taped and received from my brother as a gift) playing softly in the background.

“All that for one day, huh?”, he remarked.
“Uh-huh…one day,” I agreed, my thoughts still basking in the warmth my family had left behind them.

“But that’s what life is, isn’t it?” I mused. “A whole bunch of “one day”’s?” And from each of those days come the memories which sustain us to the end, until it is time for us to move on.