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.”
I am one of those people who loves Christmas. But this Christmas finds me surrounded by packed boxes piled ever higher (not gifts, but belongings). This is my last Christmas living in my mother’s house — I am moving on in early January. I completed a three and a half day baking marathon to have cookies for gifts, but I have done no wrapping, no mailing, no cards. I did sing carols yesterday as I vacuumed the colored sugar from three floors. Today I will spend the day in the kitchen with my Mom, making Christmas dinner for seven. I have not written a single card, or a Christmas blog. But Christmas is twelve days long.
Whatever you do, however you feel, know that The Kitchen’s Garden touches many hearts everyday: you are doing good work in your unique way. Many blessings upon you and on your family, near and far.
I also like being alone with out all the trappings so I fully understand. Sending you a Huge Christmas hug now that you are strong enough for one XO Stay safe and warm and happy in that barn 🙂 can’t wait till he cleans mine for it will be where I prefer to hang out as well
HUGS from NH
The first time I discovered your blog was when you were writing about your Christmas plans two years ago, so since it was the first post I read I remember it well. Whatever you’ve been doing, I hope all has been going well and that you are feeling contented.
Oh yes there are lots of us who have those boxes, although mine were always rather plain storage so I like your be-jeweled boxes! Thank you for your words and thoughts Miss C. Cx
Dear Celi,
This is my first visit to your blog, prompted by Lori’s post on her blog (Littlesundog). I have tears streaming down my face after reading what you wrote in response to her comment above. Having just suffered through yet another painful holiday with my own family, this is especially meaningful for me today. I too dread the big buildup to Christmas every year. My husband and I, who are childless, drive 300 miles to spend a few days with our families. We give nice yet unappreciated gifts to nieces and nephews. We push ourselves to make our parents happy, even when they make unreasonable demands on us and say things that hurt us. After this trip I told my husband that I don’t want to do it anymore. I’d much rather have a quiet holiday at home as you do, not subjecting myself to all the hoopla and forced festivity. I’m 52 years old and I need to learn to be strong enough to do what makes ME happy. Your post is giving me the strength to stand up for myself. Thank you for that.
I can tell that you are someone I’d like to get to know, so I’ve subscribed and will be back often. Hugs to you,
Kim
Hullo Kim and welcome to the farmy. Being 50 something is wonderful for a woman isn’t it. We can finally look about and go .. “hmm.. we are over doing stuff because we should (except dishes, we probably should do the dishes) .. but we are of an age where we can gently but firmly say, Oh thats fine but we are going to have a quiet christmas this year, maybe we will catch up later in the New Year and send them all cards”.. and then hang up the phone, dust off our hands and start looking at lake side cabins to rent instead.. because one thing we know for sure is that some of these things just don’t matter. Lovely to meet you.. c
Any friend of Lori’s, at Day by Day the Farm Girl’s Way (http://littlesundog.wordpress.com/), is a friend of mine. Lovely writing and sentiment. Cheers to 2014.
Thank you and welcome, lori is truly treasure isn’t she.. c
I love Christmas, but it took my husband a long time to not be a Grinch about it as he had not-so-good memories of the season. Today (after 17 years of marriage) I think he likes it…though it’s still not his favorite day or holiday. Still, it’s fun to see him mellow!
You are not alone and I swear next year Big Man and I will luxuriate in our own private Christmas (as we have done before and they’ve been the best) and find huge joy in it. At least, I hope that’s what we’ll be able to do.
The Christ-masses of Christmas past were my favourite, being able to sing in the choir at a special service. Today’s Christmas doesn’t involve a church service, just a quick whispered prayer muttered as I bake in the kitchen by myself. This year I was informed that names would be drawn for gifts, AFTER I’d bought everyone’s present. I kindly offered up our home for Christmas Eve and was informed that we were going to my brother in law’s. Then I told them I would be bringing a special pie (my mother-in-law’s fav) and was asked to bring three different dishes instead because no one likes dessert. Yup.. I was supposed to make the entire meal and haul it over to their house. Sigh.. Smidge is running low on love and patience and she can’t wait to get this evening over with. Tomorrow morning is a treasured quiet breakfast, just the four of us and I look forward to it because I know it won’t last forever as children soon spread their wings. I miss my gran, I miss my grandpa yet I feel so blessed both my parents are still here with us. Bless you, c, your writing always provokes thought and emotion and I love that about you. Wishing you a lovely next few days.. no matter how they unfold. Love, Smidge xxx
NO-ONE likes dessert? Are they Nuts? Your lovely breakfast for four sounds quite perfect.. I would be looking forward to that too .. And you will see little moments of magic and smile – regardless.. I am sure you will.. you are that kind of person… love love.. c
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