stayristmas? stayistmas? stayxmas? stayukkah?
Usually I go to Europe during the Holidays, or sometimes I fly to exotic Indonesia, where my husband does research. This year we stayed at home. We kept presents for friends and family and for ourselves to a bare minimum or nada. Because, seriously? What would Jesus buy? Yeah, that’s what we thought, too.
(Incidentally, the people who moan the loudest about being stressed out because of commercialization are usually the ones going into overdrive: the item that’s only going to collect dust/ eight pillow covers in a weird size that you have to find pricey cushions for/ the thing you want to put in the salvation army bag right away/ even the homemade… uh… object. Or all of the above.)
On Christmas Eve I made delicious plump mussels in garlicky spicy tomato sauce that the two of us devoured. Great view from our windows. Candle on the table. We watched a prerecorded “It’s a Wonderful Life”. We cried and we laughed. We were thankful for what we have. It was stress-free and quietly wonderful. I don’t mean to sound jaded; I’m not and I know how lucky I am. It’s just that I haven’t enjoyed a Winter Holiday that didn’t involve airports and travel and jetlag in years. And although I missed my parents and siblings… it was fantastic. I might have to make it a tradition.