“Our Christmases together were simple. ”
December 24, 2015 5:13 AM Subscribe
“My Christmas in New York” by Harper Lee, Illustrations by Bill Bragg [The Guardian]
“Several years ago, I was living in New York and working for an airline, so I never got home to Alabama for Christmas – if, indeed, I got the day off. To a displaced southerner, Christmas in New York can be rather a melancholy occasion, not because the scene is strange to one far from home, but because it is familiar: New York shoppers evince the same singleness of purpose as slow-moving southerners; Salvation Army bands and Christmas carols are alike the world over; at that time of year, New York streets shine wet with the same gentle farmer’s rain that soaks Alabama’s winter fields. I missed Christmas away from home, I thought. What I really missed was a memory, an old memory of people long since gone, of my grandparents’ house bursting with cousins, smilax and holly. I missed the sound of hunting boots, the sudden open-door gusts of chilly air that cut through the aroma of pine needles and oyster dressing. I missed my brother’s night-before-Christmas mask of rectitude and my father’s bumblebee bass humming Joy To The World.”
This article speaks to me as I enter middle age. I feel a sense of melancholy as I recall Christmases past with family that has been separated and scattered by divorce and distance.
But I find myself focusing on my son, who just turned 4 and is fully aware of Santa this year. He has the simple joy of a child, and that brings me the joy that every parent feels when watching their starry eyed child get excited about Christmas.
posted by Fleebnork at 6:47 AM on December 24, 2015 [1 favorite]
But I find myself focusing on my son, who just turned 4 and is fully aware of Santa this year. He has the simple joy of a child, and that brings me the joy that every parent feels when watching their starry eyed child get excited about Christmas.
posted by Fleebnork at 6:47 AM on December 24, 2015 [1 favorite]
This article speaks to me as I enter middle age. I feel a sense of melancholy as I recall Christmases past with family that has been separated and scattered by divorce and distance.
Indeed. I know it's cliche but the older I become, the more I insist on spending time with my family and loved ones. I try to make it a priority. It's not even about the gifts at this point, we sort of stopped giving gifts after all the kids in our family finished their middle-school years. And this is not to say that the giving of gifts is a bad thing. Just that in my own family, the focus has shifted. Family, friends, food. That's what it's about for me.
I hope everyone has a nice holiday. Cheers.
posted by Fizz at 6:56 AM on December 24, 2015 [4 favorites]
Indeed. I know it's cliche but the older I become, the more I insist on spending time with my family and loved ones. I try to make it a priority. It's not even about the gifts at this point, we sort of stopped giving gifts after all the kids in our family finished their middle-school years. And this is not to say that the giving of gifts is a bad thing. Just that in my own family, the focus has shifted. Family, friends, food. That's what it's about for me.
I hope everyone has a nice holiday. Cheers.
posted by Fizz at 6:56 AM on December 24, 2015 [4 favorites]
This is just lovely.
This line really got me: What I really missed was a memory, an old memory of people long since gone, of my grandparents’ house bursting with cousins, smilax and holly.
My memories are very different, of Christmases in India, but they are similar in that they can never be recaptured in quite the same way. I remember my grandmother starting out the fruitcake making process months in advance, soaking dried fruit in brandy. I remember being allowed to scrape out the mixing bowls after the cakes were in the recalcitrant oven, and getting slightly tipsy from the booze. I remember the monkey puzzle tree my aunt had managed to carefully cultivate so we could use it as a Christmas tree in the warm climate we lived in and the many boxes of tissue-papered decorations.
My aunt died a few years ago and my grandmother doesn't seem to want to celebrate Christmas any more. And I am 8000 miles away anyway. Still I've decided that I've gone long enough without celebrating Christmas. I'll cook dinner and we'll decorate the tree and send my grandmother lots of photos. It won't be the same and it never can be again.
posted by peacheater at 7:04 AM on December 24, 2015 [4 favorites]
This line really got me: What I really missed was a memory, an old memory of people long since gone, of my grandparents’ house bursting with cousins, smilax and holly.
My memories are very different, of Christmases in India, but they are similar in that they can never be recaptured in quite the same way. I remember my grandmother starting out the fruitcake making process months in advance, soaking dried fruit in brandy. I remember being allowed to scrape out the mixing bowls after the cakes were in the recalcitrant oven, and getting slightly tipsy from the booze. I remember the monkey puzzle tree my aunt had managed to carefully cultivate so we could use it as a Christmas tree in the warm climate we lived in and the many boxes of tissue-papered decorations.
My aunt died a few years ago and my grandmother doesn't seem to want to celebrate Christmas any more. And I am 8000 miles away anyway. Still I've decided that I've gone long enough without celebrating Christmas. I'll cook dinner and we'll decorate the tree and send my grandmother lots of photos. It won't be the same and it never can be again.
posted by peacheater at 7:04 AM on December 24, 2015 [4 favorites]
This was such a perfect way to begin Christmas eve. Thanks for posting this.
posted by umwhat at 7:30 AM on December 24, 2015
posted by umwhat at 7:30 AM on December 24, 2015
I was momentarily over the moon thinking of Harper Lee illustrated by Billy Bragg. (How cool would that be?!) It's very nice though, even without any folk-punk socialism.
posted by headnsouth at 7:44 AM on December 24, 2015 [2 favorites]
posted by headnsouth at 7:44 AM on December 24, 2015 [2 favorites]
Beautiful. Acts of love and faith at Christmas. Much like the message in Emmett Otter, I think.
posted by travertina at 8:04 AM on December 24, 2015
posted by travertina at 8:04 AM on December 24, 2015
Melancholy, 'a feeling of pensive sadness'. Yes, that says it quite well.
I spent Christmas eve in Shenzhen, China, with my Kenyan girlfriend. We went to a bank to wire money to a friend in Guangzhou who would use Kenya's electronic system, M-Pesa, to get $100 to her mother in Embu.
When we got to the China Bank row of ATMs and cash dispensing systems, we were flummoxed and uncertain how to effect the transaction.
A lovely man, whose English, all 15 words of it, slightly surpassed our combined Chinese vocabulary of 10-12 words, spotted our confusion, he offered his assistance. Somehow, using WeChat translation, we relayed our predicament and he kindly offered to send the money through his account and let us pay him the 650 RMB.
In the end, the transaction never went through because the Guangzhou recipient's name and account number didn't match. However, the man, Yuan, wanted to take us to dinner. He ended up taking us to a very fine traditional Chinese restaurant.
For the first time in my 68 years, I ate turtle and duck. I'll wait at least another 168 years before I indulge duck again but may try turtle once or twice before the moment of impact.
So, what was going to be a workaway evening ended up being a serendipitous meeting with a very nice man.
And it took away the melancholy of bittersweet memories of sweet family Christmas Eve's past on the old home farm I grew up on in southern Wisconsin.
My Buddhist dabbling has helped a lot in letting go of the past, both sweet and sour moments, but a night like Christmas eve, especially in a culture so far removed from the one I grew up in, can make me sad for the people and times that are so long gone.
posted by lometogo at 8:22 AM on December 24, 2015 [5 favorites]
I spent Christmas eve in Shenzhen, China, with my Kenyan girlfriend. We went to a bank to wire money to a friend in Guangzhou who would use Kenya's electronic system, M-Pesa, to get $100 to her mother in Embu.
When we got to the China Bank row of ATMs and cash dispensing systems, we were flummoxed and uncertain how to effect the transaction.
A lovely man, whose English, all 15 words of it, slightly surpassed our combined Chinese vocabulary of 10-12 words, spotted our confusion, he offered his assistance. Somehow, using WeChat translation, we relayed our predicament and he kindly offered to send the money through his account and let us pay him the 650 RMB.
In the end, the transaction never went through because the Guangzhou recipient's name and account number didn't match. However, the man, Yuan, wanted to take us to dinner. He ended up taking us to a very fine traditional Chinese restaurant.
For the first time in my 68 years, I ate turtle and duck. I'll wait at least another 168 years before I indulge duck again but may try turtle once or twice before the moment of impact.
So, what was going to be a workaway evening ended up being a serendipitous meeting with a very nice man.
And it took away the melancholy of bittersweet memories of sweet family Christmas Eve's past on the old home farm I grew up on in southern Wisconsin.
My Buddhist dabbling has helped a lot in letting go of the past, both sweet and sour moments, but a night like Christmas eve, especially in a culture so far removed from the one I grew up in, can make me sad for the people and times that are so long gone.
posted by lometogo at 8:22 AM on December 24, 2015 [5 favorites]
I'm feeling very ambiguous about Christmas nostalgia. Of course I miss being little, and the ritual of presents and then going to Grandmom's house and a few days off from school and playing with dolls and watching The Nutcracker and all the good memories. But Christmas has been bloody rough for my adult life, and I'm hoping to make new traditions; I'm literally leaving the country so that I can have a Christmas without my very stressful family. I miss having adventures, and I hope this is one. All I can come up with right now is that I'd much rather have my now than even a return to the ritual of the past (which just feels like drowning, these days).
posted by kalimac at 12:09 PM on December 24, 2015
posted by kalimac at 12:09 PM on December 24, 2015
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