A Merry Christmas Musing

Christmas is something different to everyone. I wonder what it is for you?

As I sit, sip and soak up the summertime scent of my surrounds, I reflect upon Christmases past.

One of my favourite childhood memories is lying on the ground gazing upwards at the tree my father had brought home. It was real, and the heat of the day was drawing out the magnificent Christmas aroma of the essential oils in the foliage, disseminated throughout the living room by the fan as it cast a cooling breeze across our swimsuit-clad bodies. Cottonwool snow softly falling to the floor, jostled from the branches by the fan. I remember feasting on cold juicy watermelon, and the smell of my mother’s Christmas cake cooking in the oven drifted through from the kitchen, reminding us that family members would soon be gathering to celebrate with us.

Our present day Christmas – like those throughout the world – paints a very different picture. Extended family festivities and crowded Christmas parties are simply not an option. Gatherings are minimal and I am lucky enough to be able to choose open air venue for family celebration, as we must distance ourselves a little from those we love in order to protect them from this invisible enemy, the coronavirus.

I try to imagine how Christmas will look for us in the future? Will large family gatherings be a thing of the past? Will our Christmases become more private and reflective? Or will we triumph over COVID-19 and celebrate the season on a grander scale than ever?

For now, I will savour my coffee – laced with a little Christmas cheer – and appreciate my family, grieve for the multitudes who have lost some of their dearest this year, and hope for a brighter and more positive future for humanity to celebrate in the years to come.

Merry Christmas 2020!

Enjoying my coffee from last year’s lovingly decorated & well-used mug.

A Mothers’ Day Musing

We are all different. Our life experiences are all different. Our life expectations are all different. And so, for mothers, the celebration of their role be different.

I reflect upon my experience, and wonder about yours.

I grew up in a tight knit family where Mothers’ and Fathers’ Day were almost as important as birthdays. We’d creep out into the dewy green garden at dawn – our mother’s own masterpiece – with our father, to pick a few favourite blooms to decorate the breakfast tray. Dad would help with a hot cup of tea or coffee, and we would scrape some untidy blobs of butter and jam across a couple of squares of dry toast. By the time we were ready, the warm drink was barely that and the toast was cold, but I knew our mum would be sat up in her bed eagerly awaiting it, because three smiling faces (shepherded by my dad) delivered it with a bucketload of love.

Over the years, my little family have developed our own way of celebrating Mother’s Day. Some things never change. Their dad supervises a floral masterpiece from the garden, while my eldest coordinates the menu (very similar to the one my brothers and I used to deliver). I sit up in bed eagerly awaiting my three little smiling faces with their grand presentation, just as my mother did.

This year we followed breakfast with something a little different – a wander down to a quiet local beach with enough fishing rods and bait for a couple of hours of quality family time… And do you know what? This was my best one yet!

Whatever your experience or expectation, I’d love to hear about yours.

Love Takes Up Space

It’s funny isn’t it?… In a family there are always squabbles, arguments, difficult moments, crazy busyness and chaotic messiness… But even when we don’t notice it, there is always love.

I didn’t realise until driving in the car this morning, that love actually takes up space. One child is away on an adventure, and the other two are missing her so much. They said the car felt strange without her in it, like there was an empty space that should have been filled.

It is amazing how when you remove a child, the family dynamic changes. Things tend to run more smoothly – which can be momentary relief – but at the same time, disconcerting. Routines are completed a little more quickly, but family chores take a little longer. The bathroom is a little less messy, but I am missing the scattered skincare and hair ties – crazy isn’t it?

Her room remains dark and quiet, and a little more tidy than usual. It’s quite obvious that the space taken up by messiness is also the space occupied with love.

There is an empty seat at the dinner table, a little more food left over, a few less crumbs to clean up… Love takes up space.

There was no jostling for the prime position at the breakfast bench this morning. In fact, that seat was left vacant. No waiting for what seems like an eternity for the kids to finish their breakfast and drag their feet to the car – usually one shoe on, and one shoe off!

She will be home in a few days – the squabbling will begin again, the messiness will be amplified, the chaos will return, there will be less food leftover and more crumbs at the table. We will probably run late for school… but there will be more laughter, more hugs, no vacant seat at the dinner table, at the breakfast bar, or in the car… Love definitely takes up space!

***

I have written these words from the viewpoint of a mother whose child is away for a short while, but depending on your perspective, these sentiments can apply to anyone in any situation… My heartfelt sympathies to those who are living with a permanent absence.