For many, many years I spent Christmas Day alone. Quite happily. I counted to thirteen Christmas mornings waking up in an empty house then I stopped counting. My children always spent Christmas with their beloved Grandmother my ex husbands mother. This was our tradition – a good one too. And I had a project every Christmas Day, usually in my darkroom. Then I ate my dinner and watched movies that I had rented from the video store down the road. And that was my lovely Christmas day.
And slowly my Christmas spirit leached out, a tiny bit at a time, it lay about on the floor for a while creeping out with a sly dry ‘what about me’ sigh every year but eventually I brushed its desiccated body up with my special brush and shovel and stored it in one of those secret boxes in my mind. The little jewelled boxes where you store such things so they don’t overwhelm you. You have them still, the secrets, but they are in box with a lid. And a clasp. With a key that you turn.
And now, older, I am here with my new American family.( I have been here 7 years now). And the hooplah aimed at Christmas is fierce with its bright-eyed heat seeking gaiety. And I still feel a certain dread at the unrelenting march of days towards Christmas Day and all its expectations. I kind of liked knowing that I would not have to perform at Christmas. That it was the one day in a year that I was guaranteed a free afternoon. When the roads were quiet in the morning. When I could eat my dinner (steak, mashed potatoes, lots of gravy, salad and a bottle of cold white wine) sitting cross legged on the couch, slung about any which way I wanted, watching Breakfast at Tiffanys knowing the phone would not ring.
They call me The Grinch here and I am afraid that the oozy, earthy moist (sorry Roger) smell that has appeared in the basement is The Ghost of Christmas past and all my Christmas parables will get mixed up and take over the washing machine and teach me a thing or two about Leaching.
I know this is a selfish admission but as I went about the barn with my torch last night, not speaking so as not to create Awakenings, (though Sheila always knows I am there and grunts gently: close the door you are letting in the draft then fix my blankie) I was checking lights and waters and slumbers before the final doors were shut for the night, and as I latched the reluctant latch, perched on the frozen ground, my torch under my arm so I could use both hands, I thought that I would rather spend Christmas in the barn. (After I have given everyone their presents.)
I know we are not meant to say such things aloud so I am going to whisper them onto this page.
We must smile and cook and eat and have a lovely meal and thank you ever so much for the gifts. And we Will smile and cook and eat the lovely meal and then wash up all the dishes and put them back in the cupboards shiny and warm from the hot water with our dishpan hands but there is always an element of aloneness in these movements that is OK. Taking this day to work quietly in the kitchen is OK without giving in to the party police, or the ardent Christmas Carolers. Bless them. I love those people who have that wonderful gift of loving everything about Christmas. Because I struggle with it.
All I ask is that you will understand us, those ones who are alone or wish to be alone and who will lie to our friends (sorry Donna) so that we can be alone – on Christmas Day. We are perfectly fine. Don’t worry.
You see, some of us might discover sadness in the oven with the ham, the flip side of gaiety be it forced, bottle shaped or otherwise shuffles about in the basket of fresh steaming rolls, the rising descant in melody under the melody of clinking crockery that comes from missing your own people on Christmas day muddles about in your salad. The ones who came before and left before too. You miss them. So do I. The little box in your mind where you have stashed your longing for the lost ones, or the far away ones, or the faded ones creaks and rocks its moorings, that bulging little box with the curved lid that you have to sit on to snap the latches closed heaves up into your throat. Days like Christmas Day tug at the locks and handles of the box. Fingers scratching with tips of wet green nails. There is a wobble in the hinges of my steadfastness, my determination – on Christmas day. It is easier to manage without the morphine of merriment.
This is why it is OK to want to be alone on Christmas Day. And it is even more OK to be happy whilst being alone on Christmas Day.
And I bet I am not alone in this feeling.
You all have a lovely day. This is Christmas Eve in America. And for my darlings in Melbourne, Sydney, The Outback (yes that is you cousin Maria), Hawke’s Bay, Mahia, Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch. Merry Christmas.
Love your friend on the farmy,
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
147 responses to “It is the time of year for Christmas Revelry. If you want to.”
Wishing you peace this Christmas.
Peace is the best.. Maybe that is why you like snakes and turtles they are quiet and peaceful.. have a lovely day heather and a lovely tomorrow.. c
That is exactly why I love them.
Happy Christmas to you. I hope it is a happy day whatever you do.
And you Debra, out there in the land of Santa! It must be very cold in Finland.. c
Have a beautiful day in what ever form it takes… Christmas was always a joyous time in our lives now we travel to be at one of the children’s houses… gone the feeling of excitement and wonder now just a day of joy watching the kids with their excitement… Have a Merry Christmas and may next year bring you all you wish for…
Children and Christmas are a perfect mix. Hope your health is improving.. c
I’m rather looking forward to January 2nd when life returns to normal . Until then the sheep and cows and dogs and I, and my guy,will poke about quietly.
Nice, that sounds just right. Sheep, cows and dogs! Have a lovely gentle christmas.. c
You are not alone in feeling that, no. Me too.
Actually were one of the fellowship that blew through my mind when i was writing this. Being so far away from home cannot help but bring a a frisson of sadness to a family based day.. Have a wonderful day tomorrow Charlotte in your beautiful city.. c
Often when I participate in activities for the sake of spending time with the people I love, I sit on the fringes and wish the moments away till I can be back home. Home at my farmy, in my barn, with my critters. It is there that I am happy, complete, and content. Blessings.
Content is such a lovely feeling. You are blessed that you can know it and also that you recognise it as valuable. We are very lucky like that.. c
We all find our own traditions at Christmas. Yes, for many here in the U.S., it’s a time of family and togetherness. Possibly the only time during the year with family. For others, it is time alone. Maybe the only time of the year they can be alone. Neither tradition right or wrong. But that’s the nice thing about traditions, they are our own creation.
Merry Christmas to you my new farmy friend. May you enjoy a peaceful holiday on the farm.
You are exactly right Deb, we must allow our own traditions to develop, and be true to ourselves, I wish you a joyful day tomorrow for you, your daughters and your husband.. c
For me it is family time, love the fact that we have 3 generations in the house for a few days but I do understand how some people prefer to be alone or just have a quiet one. There are no right and wrongs but which ever one you have chosen I wish you a very merry Christmas.
Three generations, oh that would be lovely. How deeply good that must feel. Have a lovely day tomorrow Alison.. c
You are not alone as you can tell. Your day sounds well spent. Peaceful. Miss. C. you really need to invest in a headlamp style flashlight (your torch) They are not expensive and are very bright. They have a wide elastic band that is not uncomfortable. They are little life savers when you need both hands free. Check online,you will be glad you did.Big box stores carry them also. All that said,Have a Merry Christmas with all of your farmy friends 🙂
I have often thought of getting a miners light.. I shall look for one, thank you Mary.. c
Or a climber’s headlamp from the Outdoor Shop. My daughter uses one.
A bushwalking torch will do a really good job for you as well. Really enjoy reading all the thoughts about being alone at this time of the year.
You hit the nail on the head for me, Celi. How eloquently you expressed deep soul thoughts that I have felt many times. You touched my heart on this one, my friend. The holidays have never worked out for me. Growing up there were problems with family and so many expectations. As a young lady I watched family and friends celebrate with their little ones (which Christmas is so much about) while my own womb lay empty. Now years later, family celebrations still elude me – anger and unrest with blended families, and hurt feelings in my own family. I do envy the families who have it all… love, celebration and kind hearts. For me, I am only too happy to bid this time of year farewell. And like you, I would prefer to spend the night bedded down next to Daisy deer and Spirit, in the woods, keeping warm in my woolly hair coat. That is where I long to be. Love to you, Celi.
I love that word Womb. So seldom used nowadays. Isn’t it interesting that even though you never had children of your own, your spirit has drifted further and further into the wood to find sprites and angels waiting for you out there. Your deep nurturing instinct, so evident in your writing, has been tempered by your lifes experiences into a startling ability to track and delve and drift into a world so few of us ever see. I have always thought that your Daisy and Spirit are the very essence of mythical woodland creatures. I imagine that they are only deer in the daylight, at night they are gleeful spirit children. Maybe even the little baby I lost is out there in the night with you, masquerading as a dark eyed rabbit or something. One of my life’s wishes is to come and move through your woods with you one day. Without words, without even much thought, just stepping ever so quietly and carefully in your footsteps disappearing in through the trees and drifting into the dusk of the forest. One day.. c
That is one of the most beautiful things anyone has ever written to me, Celi. Thank you.
Bless both of you. Real meaning of Christmas found here
Dear Celi and Lori,
You two have hit all to close to home, and I’m feeling that prickly pinched feeling you get right before the tears start.
We have two living members left in our families, both sisters, and both thankfully living far away. There are reasons for that odd logic, and yet, I miss the excitement of family and Christmas past. Of having children around, even if not ours, because it is the children that make the holiday sparkle with joy and expectation. What irony that I wanted to be alone as a child at Christmas, and now would give just about anything not to be. We have been doing this alone thing for a long while now, and I miss not having had the opportunity for children and grandbabies of our own. We will always be alone. I have begun trying again to make it festive, even if just for two.
Or perhaps I mean even for just us two.
Lori and Celi, the beauty of your words, your sharing is wonderful. A gift of self that takes this reader in and makes her feel closer, more accepted; a confidant. Thank you both for sharing, and letting me share also.
Love you both,
Lynda
“A confidant”.. wonderful.. Yes, you are right- that is how we are.. Christmas is a funny time.. I miss you two, wish i could meet you.. c
Finally words that “hit the spot”……I am therefore in good company …
peace full ness be with us all.
Isn’t lovely to know that we have been in such good company all along… c
indeed !
Dear Celi, This is so beautiful. The cat and the dog and I are up this morning cooking. It’s so nice to be alone. I can admit it here but I would love to be alone tonight instead of having a dozen people for dinner. That sounds so selfish because there are those who are alone and would give anything to be in my shoes. The fact remains it wouldn’t bother me one bit to ship my kids to their dad’s house, send Derwood and his daughter to his mom’s and Lula, Mudd and I could sit on the couch and eat and watch movies, have a little Bailey’s and to all a good night.
And I am one of those who revels in Christmas and I am very excited for some of the gifts I have to give this year but sometimes I wouldn’t mind just a Christmas Eve of solitude, I’ve NEVER had one.
Merry Christmas. Thank you for your blog. I love to read about the farmy every single day. I’m sorry about the Duke of Kupa but he knows he was loved.
xo Maggie
Maggie good morning and isn’t it nice that we can say things here that play quietly about in our minds, then we find to our delight that we are not alone in the thinking! Have fun in the kitchen, as soon as i have finished my rounds that is where I am going to be too! c
The more I read this blog the more I feel the spirit of ‘like’ minds and kindred thoughts! So many times Celi writes from the heart and we all start jumping up and down saying “Me Too, Me Too”! And there I was thinking I was the strange one, the outcast, the weird old English lady that lives in that white cottage! My sister, bless her cotton socks, has always declared I was a witch! because my heart lifts at things she can’t see or comprehend, at special moments that contain no material things, and she can’t understand my love for animals – but that’s OK because here I can read and nod my head with so many understanding folk!
You the witch, me the grinch.. taking over the world!! c
You are far from being a grinch. You are a loving caring doing person, and we all love you and your flerd of animals. In the old days of family Christmases, it used to pass in a haze of exhaustion and worry about the in-laws falling out with the outlaws. Now it’s just the two of us, invited here, there and everywhere, with no responsibilities, we can relax and enjoy it.
I love Christmas, I really do, but after so many years of working on Christmas Day I find the day itself sort of a disappointment. My family always handled the stockings and the dinner and the gifts; I bought only Disneyland passes to avoid accumulating more stuff (which were expensive enough), and stopped putting up a tree after the year I couldn’t bear to take it down and my roommate finally did it in May. Now I spend the day on the computer hiding from my family with a bottle of something-proof. Maybe this year I’ll tie a horn in the cat’s head.
A bottle of something PROOF! I would share that with you.. c
We have invited several neighbours to our table for Christmas dinner this year. Our family has had too much death and loss in the last 14-months (2 parents, 2 cousins, 1 aunt, 2 uncles), plus our youngest and his wife moved to South America, our eldest and his wife (and my grandchildren) live in the middle of a far away ocean. I told Peder that sometimes you have to make your own happiness, and that’s when I popped around to the neighbours and asked them over for Christmas dinner. They needn’t bring anything except their empty tummies. It’s not about being jolly. It’s about cherishing the time we have, and spending it with people we’d miss if they weren’t nearby. Yes indeed, c, sometimes you just have to make your own happiness in whatever shape it forms. Happy Christmas, my darling, and joy to the farmy.
“It’s not about being jolly. It’s about cherishing the time we have . . .” Yes, Misky. So true. You have found the “spirit” of Christmas, I think, in making your own happiness and offering generosity to others.
After reading this I packed up some more frozen chickens and took them to my neighbours, you are so right misky,, Love Thy Neighbour.. so simple and so beautiful. esp after the year you have had.. c