IT'S going to be a very different Christmas this year for a lot of us. There will be no big family gatherings, no festive parties and no toasting the season in the pub. Most of us will be hunkering down and postponing celebrations until the vaccine arrives and it is safe to get back together again.
For a lot of parents, Christmas is just an added stress on top of what has been an unimaginably challenging year. Some parents have lost their jobs, some their businesses, some have found themselves unable to put food on the table never mind thinking of purchasing expensive gifts this Christmas. That and the fact that Santa has also been hit hard by the global pandemic and people could be forgiven for thinking things look pretty dire.
But I think this Christmas will be different in many other ways. What has been borne from almost a year of relentless challenge and anxiety is a newfound appreciation for the things that make us happy. And generally those things can't be purchased in a shop.
We have all spent more time at home with our kids. And whether they are fighting with one another over their game consoles, eating the week's supply of food in two days or interrupting your important Zoom meetings with their demands, it has been a very special time.
Most of us working parents don't get to spend a lot of time with our children during the week. Although it has been extremely challenging navigating life and work and lockdown while hunkering down together in this storm, the way parents have forged ahead and lead our kids through it by the hand will have strengthened family bonds.
For many, this year has totally changed their lives. Some have tragically lost loved ones. Others their entire livelihoods, their homes, everything. And for those of us who weren't touched by heartbreak, many mindsets have changed. I think we will all emerge from this year of Hell completely different people.
This time last year my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I spent the days up until Christmas in the hospital with her as she underwent surgery and treatment. There was so much fear and uncertainty surrounding her journey ahead. We didn't know what the months in front of us would bring – the last thing we imagined was navigating cancer treatment in the midst of a pandemic.
There was no festive music or cheer in the hospital. There wasn't much time or inclination to put up decorations at home or head to festive parties. On Christmas Day, we got together and had dinner, my mother barely able to speak and still nursing the wounds from surgery just days before.
Last Christmas we forgot about the outside world, commercialism and celebrating and looked inwards, to what was important – family. All of us around the dinner table, being gentle and kind to one another, laughing and enjoying each other's company.
We'll do the same this year as another challenging Christmas presents itself, albeit for different reasons.
Mum wont be joining us this year in person, because we want to wait until she gets the vaccine and it's safe to get together again. We had thought of having dinner in her back garden, in the open air, with BBQ heaters and everyone dressed like Eskimos, but then we remembered, it's only one day. It's only dinner. We can have a massive party bringing in all the birthdays, anniversaries and celebrations when this is all over.
Mum will have her Christmas dinner delivered to her and log-in to our special virtual Christmas celebration. I just couldn't risk her picking up the virus after all she has come through. We'll be having a virtual Christmas dinner with my brothers and sister from as far away as England and America. We'll have a Christmas jumper competition, there'll be singing I'm sure, and a family memory-themed quiz. It'll be different and it'll be special. Technology will allow us to be safe and stay together.
And I'll look around our Christmas table at the faces online and on the screens and be thankful that we all made it and that brighter days are ahead.
