John's Christmas gift to all

I was going to try to be profound about our Christmas this year -- something about traditions, expectations, friendships, family connections -- but then John sent me his photographs from the day. Why blather on when he has already said in images what would take more than a thousand words in writing? Not many families are lucky enough to have a professional photographer documenting their activities, so I am going to take advantage. Let's call it John's Christmas gift to all of us.

Traditions  are malleable. The scent of evergreens has always been the most important reason for having a Christmas tree, but you don't actually need the tree. Evergreen boughs on the mantle serve the purpose just as well, and are much easier to handle. To the right is Emi's chair, handed down from John's childhood.

The Christmas table always looks more or less the same.  This year's version had red and white carnations instead of tulips, but there are always lots of  evergreen clippings to add scent and colour. I always find "Christmasy" napkins, and use the flowered place mats that my mother gave me many years ago. 

The key word is festive. So, even though I did no holiday baking this year, there had to be something on the table that shouted Christmas. My local grocery store filled the bill with shortbread cookies rimmed with red and green sprinkles and star-topped mince tarts.

Grapes and oranges add brilliant colour to that festive look, but t who are we kidding? The real treasures here are the chocolates, nuts and baked goods.

Another Christmas tradition is my mother's turkey gravy. Whatever's left at the bottom of the turkey roasting pan-- bits of meat, skin, stray dressing and fat -- gets sprinkled with flour, stirred until thick, then doused with the water drained off the boiled potatoes. Stirred, salted and peppered, it's not smooth or strained, but the taste is excellent.  Every year I read about how to make silky-smooth perfect gravy, and every year I do it just the way mom taught me.

When we first started celebrating Christmas in this house in the 1970s, the people around the table were very different. They often included my parents and whichever of my siblings happened to be in town. My parents are both gone and my siblings have scattered to the winds, but my sister Betty's son Etienne and his wife Aya and five-year-old daughter Emi, the latter two shown above, have taken their place. Along with my friend Linda, they made up our Christmas table this year. The faces change, but the spirit of togetherness and celebration stay the same. 

Every Christmas has something a little different, and this year it was a chocolate Christmas tree from a specialty chocolate shop on West 41st and a Christmas orange decorated with happy faces by Emi. Aya was likely laughing at something else, but let's say she was finding these two objects amusing. 

Distant family was very present at this year's Christmas, as some of Betty's gifts from Quebec ended up at our place for opening. Betty's gift to me was a page of literary insults intended for my wall. It includes gems like Jane Austen's: "You  have delighted us long enough." Betty's gift also included a sock full of candy, as according to her, there's still a child in all of us. I think Emi, here holding the same kind of sock she had received earlier herself, was pleased that we were both getting the same treatment. 

My friend Linda took time to carefully explain her gifts to Emi. They included a little purse holding a tiny writing pad and envelopes so Emi could write notes to her parents. Emi  later quietly  confessed to Linda that she couldn't write yet, and asked if she would write "I love you daddy," in a note to her father. Much drawing was also included before the missive was sent. The little purse also contained "worry dolls," which Linda explained is a Mexican tradition in which children tell their worries to tiny figurines that they then put under their pillows. By the morning, the worries are gone, thanks to the dolls that lift them off the children's shoulders. It seems that Linda's thoughtful gifts were great hits.

The excitement of Christmas eventually tires everyone out, especially if you're a five-year-old who has to put up with a lot of adults talking all night. Hopefully, this one will have some happy memories from her adult-oriented Christmas.