...and back to the point. Traditions.
Unfortunately, the family was a wee bit sick over the holiday - touch of a weird strain of flu which slayed us for a couple of days. It wouldn't have been such a big deal any other time of the year, but when Christmas celebrations are done over a certain 'couple of days' of the year, it really wreaked havoc in some careful planning and preparation. Having to change plans which have become so much a part of our lives was very hard. At the same time, though, we were starting a new tradition - a whole new set of traditions, really - with the twins ...because this is the first year they've had even an inkling of Christmas. To start with, chronology is not high on the list when you're two...and all history is learned when you're that tender age (since they've having experienced hardly any themselves), so the situation leaves it up to Janne and I to decide how much of the Christmas experience - and what aspects of it - will become a part of their growing up.
Although I grew up in an English/Irish/Scottish household, which followed many of the traditions of those countries at Christmastime, I lost my parents early in life, and - as I'm sure is the case in many homes - those traditions become adapted to fit the family which remained, rather than have those traditions dictate how life will be lived at Christmas.
So, having spent the last few years with my wife's Danish family at Christmas, celebrating Christmas on December 24th was different for me, but I wasn't unbendable over the idea, because the traditions of my Christmas over the years had already been altered a few times. (I still remember one very bleak year - when I was still living in Nova Scotia, after both my parents had died, and communication between myself and my sister had almost completely ended - and I decided to do nothing about Christmas at ALL. No decorations for the house, no tree in it, no gifts, no cards... and after having done that, it gave me a better perspective of how things are for many unfortunate souls in the world. No love. A void which I've never forgotten.)
However, the anticipation of Christmas as a child on Christmas Eve, going to bed knowing that - when you got up Christmas morning - there'd be a stocking full of things you could never have guessed, plus some things you just knew'd be in it, is the one thing I've continued to miss over the years, partly because of the introduction of festivities which now begin on the night before. That anticipation was so wonderfully instilled in me by my parents, that it simply never went away. By the way, if you've just joined us - I'm FIFTY! ...and, yes, I still miss that feeling - when the celebration of Christmas begins before the anticipation actually takes a hold of my heart.
This is not meant in any way to belittle the Christmas spent with Janne's family, but for me - and I know her family understands this about me, because I've never known a group of people who stand on Christmas traditions the way they do - it's more an observance of their way of finding that spirit of love, and that family core which wraps us all up together so warmly.
Don't get me wrong.
I am a participant as well as an observer. The Danish side of my family wouldn't allow me to merely observe. As a matter of fact, I've even begun a few new traditions within their traditions. For instance, I purposefully mispronounce Danish words throughout the Christmas carols (which MUST BE SUNG BEFORE ONE SINGLE PRESENT IS OPENED, or Lene will have a little talk with you) to get a laugh.
I also joust (verbally) with Ken over the last remaining brown potatoes. I don't how to spell what we call them in Danish - I just mispronounce it occasionally. I'm hoping my wife or Lene will spell it correctly in the comments. It's basically potatoes and sugar. There's a pan, and heat, and a carmelization process. That's all you really need to know.
There are other new traditions, too, but they're all somehow wrapped up in the old ones. As I mentioned earlier, our traditions become adapted to fit the family which remains.
The Danish Christmas dinner is not a dinner. It is a feast. No other word comes close to describing its glorious nature. And Mom - the name I'm most comfortable calling Janne's mother, and a woman I feel I've not spoken nearly enough about on this blog - makes the entire meal with love and dedication every year - even when she's suffering with the pain from two recently broken feet, as she is this year. She's quite amazing, really, and is an incredibly generous spirit...and her version of the traditional Danish Christmas dinner is awesome. It's much more than awesome, but if I couldn't think of a better word than 'personkind' earlier, I'm not going to try to re-invent the dictionary here.
So, when we missed the Danish traditions this year, it was difficult for both Janne and I. However, in the true spirit of Christmas, everyone who usually assembles at Mom's on Christmas Eve made a point of coming together - just for us - again on Boxing Day (yesterday) for a Christmas lunch - with as many of the same comforts we have come to expect from Christmas Eve which could be reproduced - and you will no doubt see some photographic evidence of that occasion here, and on Lene's blog, in the not-too-distant future.
...and thank you - from Liam, Morgan, Janne and myself - to every member of our family - both by blood, and extended - who changed their plans to give us that Christmas.
Our Little Twinkling HouseI'll leave you with this quote from Bill McKibben - a prolific writer, whose work includes, "The Comforting Whirlwind: God, Job, and the Scale of Creation", "Hope, Human and Wild, True Stories of Living Lightly on the Earth", and (the source of the quote) "Hundred Dollar Holiday: The Case For A More Joyful Christmas":
"There is no ideal Christmas; only the one Christmas you decide to make as a reflection of your values, desires, affections and traditions."
Hope you had (or, quite possibly, are still having) your ideal Christmas.
