Going home for Christmas

 This year my Christmas will be a bit unusual, as I will be in hospital right through it and probably meeting most of my family and friends via Zoom rather than any other way. But I was thinking about the way that one's Christmas changes across one's life and how its centre of gravity changes.

We have always had enjoyable Christmases right through my life (although I do have one relative who often picked up overtime shifts that day because they didn't enjoy it enough to turn down double time). We were a large family with six children, so a typical Christmas would have ankle deep wrapping paper and a large turkey, from as early as I remember. In fact, when I was young we still had a turkey sent through the post to England by our Irish Granny. I'm sure you can't do that now. 

As we got bigger, Christmas dinner had to move from the kitchen table to the dining room table and eventually wine and beer and sherry found their way onto the table. When we were all teenagers (just about) we had to deal with losing our father, and I remember the first Christmas after that it felt like the number was somehow hovering between seven and eight around the table. And that is one thing that I realised when thinking about 'going home for Christmas' - it is a marker of what has happened since the last one.

When a new child or grandchild arrives during the year it is as big a change as when someone dies. When one of the children in a family brings home the person that they want to spend their life with, that is quite a change too. In fact, I feel a lot of sympathy for the new partner arriving in a celebration which has roots going back twenty or thirty years. Just keep your head down is my advice. 

But the big change really is the slow generational change that eventually happens, especially in the way that we tend to live in England, with single family households. I think in other countries where there is a much more 'big-family-centred' arrangement, there might be less of an impact with generational change. If you have one house which represents the whole family, then it matters much less who has died and who is 'head of the household' - the building is the same and its centre of gravity hasn't changed. 

But the norm for my generation is that you go back to your parents house for Christmas until you start a family of your own, at which point a new Christmas is spawned and your own children only know this one. You might go and visit on Boxing Day, but you don't usually revert to your childhood Christmas.

And then at a point to be determined, the older generation usually start to come to the new Christmas. This may seem like a handing over of the torch, but in my experience most grandparents are damn glad to not have to do the cooking after years of turkey toil. So the act of 'going home for Christmas' changes, and instead of being a pilgrimage back to where we come from, the baton is handed over and the 'home' becomes a new place. But I like the feeling of it. 

The different meanings of all those Christmases are a map of our lives, from the first time as a wide-eyed toddler to the last time as a respected and elderly guest as our grandchildren attempt their first turkey. And this Christmas, though mine this year will be a little odd, I will try to remember all the ones I have seen.