Ed. Note: Today’s post is part of our international blogging group wherein some of the best bloggers in the world consider the same subject. Our assignment this time is Christmas and I now realize it is “Fantasy Christmas” which is not exactly what I wrote I’m afraid. But for truly brilliant takes on the subject click over to Marsha at Splenderosa where you will find the entire list of participants.
“This was the best Christmas ever,” I say.
“You always say that,” my daughter says. “Every year you say the say the same thing.”
And it’s true. Every year. Because it is true. I love Christmas, always have, and when our tiny family is all together, dogs on the floor, fire in the fireplace, the tree glowing in the corner, Champagne in hand, what could be more perfect?
Of course there are presents, always thoughtful gifts and they make everyone happy, but it’s not that. Not at all. It’s being together.
Curiously perhaps, I don’t recall many details from Christmas when I was a little girl. I do remember that the first Christmas after my father died, I was 10, my mother and I felt lost and alone as the holidays approached. Then we received a telephone call from close friends who invited us to spend the 24th and the 25th with their rather large family. For many years after we were considered part of that family for Thanksgiving and Christmas and I do remember it was wonderful. It seemed as if we were lovingly swept up in the true spirit of the season.
Christmas for me is something to look forward to: plans, decorating, anticipation. Anticipation is hugely important for me. I like to draw everything out — well not everything, but you know what I mean, everything good — as long as possible. I buy presents throughout the year, tuck them away (sometimes I don’t find them for two years), decide on wrappings, make sure I have real ribbon on hand, do a survey on what everyone would like for dinners and lunches and just generally get in the mood which makes me enormously happy.
This year will be less fun I fear. Andrea and Will won’t be “home” for the first time ever; they have to stay in Chicago and we have only one dog now. But My-Reason-For-Living-In-France and I will nonetheless drink Champagne in front of the fireplace with Charlotte and make phone calls.
I’ll have an entire year to plan for Christmas 2013 when we’ll all be together again. Talk about drawing out the pleasure.
If I stay on message then, my fantasy Christmas would be anywhere with everyone, the rest is just decoration.