Christmas feels different this year. I’ve said that multiple times over the past few weeks. I thought it was just because I’m recovering from shoulder surgery and I haven’t done many of the things I normally do in the weeks leading up to Christmas. But I think it’s more than that. Maybe it’s because I’ve had more time to sit and think instead of the constant busyness of shopping and decorating and baking.
This time of year has become more emotional for me. It was my Dad’s favorite time of year. Dad’s birthday was yesterday, December 20th. And Christmas Eve was Dad’s absolute favorite day of the year. He cooked seafood and homemade pasta and fried cauliflower. There were olives and giardiniera. For dessert there were cookies, pizzelles and torrones.
I’ve been trying to recreate Christmas Eve dinner each year since Dad passed away. And it never felt the same. It was a lot of work and when I sat down to eat, it always felt a little empty. I thought that by recreating exactly what Dad made, that I was keeping the tradition alive. But I now realize that it wasn’t about the food. It was about the family.
Yes, cooking and eating are inseparable from family in an Italian household. And my Dad was raised by his Italian grandparents and Italian father’s family. My Grandmother did not come from that background, but embraced the tradition for the husband and children that she loved.
But it was always about the family. I’ve heard stories of all the aunts and uncles and cousins coming to the house when my Dad and his sisters were growing up. About Christmas Eve traditions that of course involved food.
And I remember growing up and looking forward to Christmas Eve at Uncle Joe’s house where all my Dad’s aunts and uncles and cousins and all their kids gathered. All bringing food and coming together to talk and eat and laugh. Where the kids would play games. And gifts were exchanged. Where everyone was dressed up and most of us were going to midnight mass after the party.
As the years went on, the Christmas Eve celebration moved to the Jeannette Glass Union Hall. There were too many of us. And it was becoming too much for Uncle Joe and Aunt Vivien to host every year. Aunt Mary worked at Jeannette Glass and was able to rent the hall for Christmas Eve each year. I remember grab bag gift exchanges and seeing cousins who we were best friends with since babies. Playing games, comparing notes on what we wanted for Christmas, how school was going and whatever else children and teens talk about.
And then the tradition changed again. The big family gatherings stopped. Aunt Mary would have her immediate family at her house. And Dad started having it at his house. Back where the tradition had started when my grandfather and his brothers and sisters were growing up. When my Dad and Aunts were growing up.
Over the years, the size of the group varied. For a while, it was all adults – my parents, my Aunt Patty and Uncle Bill, my brothers and me and significant others, my cousins Renee and Terry and their significant others. And then there were children again as my youngest brother and his wife had two boys. Eventually my cousin Renee and her husband had a boy. And then Terry and his wife had a boy. The boys were spaced out in age, so there were always young children over these years. We all bought presents for the kids, and the adults would sit at the table and talk while the kids played on the floor in the living room. When the presents were handed out, the kids would rip into the wrapping paper and there would be ribbons and paper everywhere as the kids oohed and ahhed at what they had received. Just like we did when we were kids on Christmas Eve.
In August 2017, Dad passed away. And my nephews wanted to have Christmas Eve at the house. Just like they had known their entire lives. Dad had taught Travis and Zachary how to cook all the food, including homemade pasta noodles and the sauce. And those boys cooked their hearts out that year. We all showed up and tried to make it a good Christmas for Dad. But the heart of the family was gone.
I’ve always known that family was everything to Dad. But I guess I didn’t really understand. That was the last Christmas that we were all together. I’ve tried different things over the years since then trying to make Christmas feel like it did then. And as the current saying goes, I was today years old when I realized that it isn’t the food that I am missing. It isn’t how many Christmas trees or decorations I put up. It’s the family that I’m missing. It’s the gatherings, the conversations, the love of people who I’ve known all my life. And yes, it’s sharing a meal with the people who mean so much to me.
Yes, Christmas is different now. Change is inevitable. But the memories are forever. And I will hold those in my heart while I make new memories each year. And whatever we do, whoever we spend the time with and whatever we eat, it will be ok. Because it’s a new memory made with people I love.
Hug your loved ones a little bit tighter. Appreciate those who are special in your life while you can. And be sure to make new memories with your friends and family every chance you get. Because in the end, it’s the memories that will give you the strength and understanding to live out each day in meaningful ways.
I wish a Very Merry Christmas to each and every one of you who are reading this. May God’s light shine on you and bless you today and always.
One Response
Well said 🥰