This year we had a real Christmas.
I was able to forget about buying those ‘difficult to please’ people presents.
I sent money to my children, easy easy easy.
I did not take a deep sigh of relief when Christmas evening fell, and whisper,
“365 more days before I have to do this again!”
We attended a few carol service at our church which hosted several surrounding schools’ Christmas programs. The sanctuary was filled several times in the weeks preceding Christmas with parents and family too many to fit into the school auditorium. It was heartening to see our ancient parish church being used for its original purpose that of the centre of the small town’s life. As the ecclesiastical season was still advent there were no decked halls or altar but the reading were biblical and the music was angelic and I love Christmas carols. A mere twelve days of singing old favourites is not long enough for me!
On the fourth Sunday of Advent our church put on its own carol service with a candlelit tableaux of the manger scene. We all had candles which were finally lit once the three kings arrived and we sang new and old carols throughout the service.
Afterwards we had mince pies and mulled wine in the parish hall across the road. A huge hit with our daughter, who said it was the favourite part of the holiday,
“So far,” she modified.
We shopped for my nephews and put together stockings. Even though she’s twenty (almost) Malia would not relinquish her stocking tradition!
We baked and watched a film together.
We ate our Christmas dinner on the Eve at about 9pm so that we could stay awake for Midnight mass where hubs and I were uhers which motivated us to stay awake!
While at the back of the church, welcoming and handing out service orders I overheard one of the ushers say,
“What are our instructions for the drunks?”
“Drunks?” I thought and listened more closely.
“I haven’t had to deal with any in the last few years, but the last time a group came in three of us had to ask them to leave.” I suppose that would be all for the good of the church, but I wonder what Jesus would have said?
“Go and come back when you are worthy and in clear mind, to stand before the Lord.”
As it was we had no drunks.
When mass started I left my greeters post and ventured forth to take my seat next to hubs and daughter. As I set my face towards the front of the church I was confronted by the altar party processing up the aisle towards me.
I hastily turned around and returned to my post at the front door. Luckily a large group entered so I didn’t have to stand awkwardly on the side alone!
The baby Jesus was placed in the manger at the front of the church. The crib as it is called here, not a creche, was massive, about six foot wide and proportionately deep, a ladder and straw bales were inside with Mary and Joseph the animals, shepherds and sheep. The procession halted for a blessing and then continued its circumnavigation of the church passing closely beside me and my group of late arrivals!
On our walk home we heard the clock strike 1am.
The next day things were quiet, I returned to mass, to hear more carols while waiting for our youngest to awaken.
Our evening was blessed with my brother and his two boys…fashionably late as usual. He bore food for an army which we scarcely made a dent in,
“It’s Christmas” he said, oohing and aahing over my father’s crib which he had hand made for us forty years ago. We ate, we did gifts, we had wine, we ate pudding and mince pies. We played games and chatted and yawned, we took photos and sent them to America to keep our extended family in the loop and the boys chomped at the bit to go home to Dad’s and open another pesent.
They left at 1030 and we fell into bed.
There was no patriarch or matriarch…we were the oldest there.
Things felt very different, but as our priest said in his sermon,
“We have high expectations at this time of year, and we won’t have a perfect Christmas but we will all have a real one.”
Whatever happens to the day, it happens, it is real, it belies any planning, it snubs traditions, it honours love, it shirks tact, it defies order…it is real.
I hope you had a real Christmas this year.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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