Journey to… ME! (Christmas Special)

Christmas season…

The celebration I used to dread, more than my birthday, was Christmas; it wasn’t a season of happiness and celebration, like it is for most people. I usually couldn’t wait until the 26^th because by then the day of celebration would be over. Everything starts to return to normal. All expectations of a special day are forgotten and reality is all that’s left.

All through the season, I would hear people talk about gifts to buy for loved ones, gifts they were hoping to get and family and friends that would be getting together. They talked ardently; even those who didn’t really know what the season is about, or believe in it.

Instead of being infected by the festivity, I became lonely. It was like the season made it more obvious than it usually was that the life I lived was far from average or normal.

Christmas in my house was different from that in most homes; there was no celebration. Over the years, I tried to figure out why exactly we couldn’t manage to celebrate Christmas.

I can’t remember far back to when I was a kid; I don’t remember a lot from then. I wonder if we did anything then. I doubt we did much; maybe mum just made a bigger quantity of food than we ate every other day or something.

I really can’t remember much.

But I do remember the recent years. The more the years went by, the lonelier the Christmases became.

I remember waking up about two or three Christmases ago and all my parents and I could manage was an obligatory “Merry Christmas” to one another. Then everyone went about their everyday business.

There was absolutely nothing, apart from the greeting we said to one another, that would have made it obvious that it was Christmas. No tree, no presents, no special cooking and no spending the day as a family (Parents went to work that day. They did that: double pay for the holiday). I’m not even sure we had any food made to eat at all. Absolutely nothing! Everyone left to fend for themselves.

Sometimes, I forgot what day it was until someone in the house reminded me. I guess it was my way of dealing with it. If I didn’t remember the day, then I wouldn’t feel like my family was less than others. I wouldn’t feel so sad and gloomy about everything. I never knew just how much the whole situation affected my younger sister as well until this Christmas. I guess I was too lost in my own misery to see hers.

The last two Christmases, I told myself it was going to be different. I wouldn’t spend the day feeling sorry for myself. I was going to do something about it.

I took my sister with me and spent the last two Christmases at different friends’ houses. It did lighten the whole situation and made me feel better to some extent, but being with those families made it glaring what my family was lacking.

Everyone was involved in one another’s life; they had lights or a tree, presents and all. I couldn’t help but think they must feel sorry for me on some level. The rest of the world was spending their Christmas with their immediate and extended family and I was spending mine with my sister away from my parents with another person’s family.

Three Christmases ago, I thought if I did something for my family, maybe I would feel more connected to the festivity. I got everyone in family presents with the little money I had. I thought they were thoughtful gifts, but in my family, people generally don’t appreciate gifts.

I know my sister probably never read the book I got her. All my dad did was grumble about the size not being right, I’m not even sure he tried it on. My mum kept hers somewhere, but I never saw her wear it.

Instead of the joy I thought I would feel, all I felt was hurt. My efforts seemed wasted.

After that Christmas, I quit trying with my family. I just let the Christmases roll by, while waiting for the dawn of the 26th.

But this year was different.

It was like no Christmas I remember ever having.

On one of my sessions, I told my counsellor that I was thinking of making a Christmas dinner this year for my family.

Lately, I’ve been trying new recipes whenever I can. I love cooking and it seemed like a great idea. It was an opportunity to make something new of celebrating Christmas. The idea seemed great. My counsellor thought it would help with getting closer to my parents and also building a relationship with my younger sister.

I looked forward to it with great excitement but also with trepidation.

I wasn’t sure what everyone’s attitude to it would be like. All I could think of was what happened the last time. I thought maybe I was too excited and it was going to end up badly, but the woman urged me to give it a try.

I chose a recipe, told my sister about it and she was enthused by the idea. It was at that moment that I started noticing just how starved she was of any recognition of the holiday in our house. I started to realise how much of the same thoughts we shared about every Christmas.

She had asked me earlier in the month if we were going to spend this Christmas at my best friend’s house like we did last year and I told her no. This year was going to be different. We were going to celebrate at home. She was disappointed; which made me decide to go through with the dinner. I was determined to make a change this year and give her an almost normal Christmas.

I delayed telling my parents about it until the 22nd. All I could think of was getting a negative reaction that would upset me. I couldn’t picture that they would have anything positive to say about it, but I was pleasantly surprised. They were into the idea. It was a change for once: a very good change.

By the night of Christmas Eve, I was ecstatic. I had all my ingredients and preparation done. I had the presents that I had gotten for my family. All I was waiting for was Christmas morning. I was so elated that I was singing and dancing all around the house. My sister made a point of mentioning that I was probably more excited than a kid on her first Christmas.

There was some truth to that. As far as I knew, it was going to be my first celebrated Christmas.

Christmas morning finally came with all its glory!

I handed out the presents, and the appreciation I got from my family was more than I ever expected. I even got a hug from my mum. Now that’s rare.

I made the dinner and the dessert. For the first time in my life I used an oven and baked. It was a lot of work but I enjoyed every moment of it. I usually couldn’t stand the smell of baked food and I don’t eat them, but doing it for my family overrode all that.

My sister mentioned that it was a Christmas like none we had ever had. It was a step in the right direction.

It turns out I love Christmas – not just because it’s a season to celebrate the birth of my Saviour, Jesus Christ – but also because it gives me hope for my family.

It was a step into true discovery of… Me

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