I’m sitting alone on my comfy couch. The champagne flutes are washed, the porchetta and bread and butter have been put away. The baked bean pot has been scrubbed and dried. It’s been a night.
Every Christmas Eve I open my house to my nearest, dearest family and offer for their pleasure, baked beans, ham sandwiches, some kind of cheese and whatever baking I’ve managed to paste together over the week before Christmas.
I do this in memory of my Grandfather. The man could throw a party! Ever since we moved from Toronto to Edmonton, my family was invited to my Grandpa’s place for Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve.
The format was simple. An early arrival, Champagne, very modest eats and a few moments together with the family before the pressing concerns of outsiders took us away.
These were my favorite moments in the holiday season. Not the fancy dress cocktail parties or the big meals or even the presents under the tree. These were the times my parents, siblings, Uncles, Aunts, Cousins and Grandparents got together to say, “We are family. This is home. This is what’s important.”
Champagne corks would fly (I would cringe.) We’d eat. We’d drink and then my Grandfather would send us on our way saying, “Now get out of here! I’ve got to be at a party by 7:00!”
I hope you have your traditions too and I hope that you honor them in your way. I hope they bring you the sweet kind of joy that mine bring me and I hope that those who have gone on ahead know that we think of them and include them in our ceremonies still.
May this Christmas Season remind us all that we are one very large family and that Peace in our time is possible.