“And Christmas comes around
And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home…”
— Tim Minchin, “White Wine in the Sun”
Ever notice how many Christmas songs involve the idea of going home?
Let’s see, just off the top of my head there’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” “Driving Home for Christmas,” “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” “Christmas Without You,” “Home for the Holidays,” and — my new favourite — "White Wine in the Sun" (it’s about Christmas in Australia).
There’s something about the Yuletide holiday that seems to trigger the inner homing pigeon in those of us who celebrate it, and wherever we are at that time of the year, the urge to be at home on Dec. 25 becomes an imperative.
Maybe it’s being surrounded by the people you love most, enjoying Mom’s turkey stuffing and Christmas cherry cake, the anticipation of giving and receiving gifts, the twinkling lights and festive decorations, the respite from work (if you’re lucky), the lure of sweet nostalgia — or a combination of them all. Whatever it is, it’s potent. Potent enough to inspire countless songwriters to wax lyrical about how perfect the holiday would be if we could all just be with the ones we love.
As Al Stillman and Robert Allen put it more than 60 years ago,
“Oh! There's no place like home for the holidays,
‘Cause no matter how far away you roam,
If you wanna be happy in a million ways,
For the holidays you can’t beat home sweet home!”
Ditto “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,” in which the message is clear: Christmas, as a holiday, is not about things, it’s about people connecting and sharing joy and goodwill.
Which makes this COVID-19 Christmas a real departure for many people.
This year, for the first time, all of my siblings have at least one grown child who can’t get home because of the travel restrictions that exist beyond this Atlantic bubble.
And thousands of people are in a similar situation: facing a holiday season alone because they can’t get home, or anticipating a Christmas with empty places and fewer faces around the table. A year with Christmas memories and glad tidings brought to you by Zoom or Skype or FaceTime.
Our grown son and daughter will be with us and we’re thankful for that. I can only imagine how quiet and different Christmas would be without them.
This year, as in other years, some people have lost loved ones, whether through COVID-19 or otherwise, and are facing their first Christmas without them. What exacerbates the grieving process in this pandemic is the fact that not everyone could be there in the final hours or gather together as a family and a community to mourn their loss.
And there are many people facing the holidays with huge anxiety about their personal financial situation, their company’s or employer’s viability, or both.
Whatever people’s individual circumstance, it’s wise to remember that Christmas is not all chestnuts-roasting-on-an-open-fire for everyone, and especially not this COVID-19 Christmas.
Nerves are frayed, hearts are aching, cupboards may be bare, bills piling up.
But, as the Grinch learned, you can’t stop Christmas from coming, and it will come whether people are dreaming of sugarplums or filled with despair.
It’s easy to be short-tempered and impatient in these trying times. But the waiter who forgot your drink or the sales clerk caught up in a personal phone call, the guy who grabbed the parking spot you were headed for at the mall — who knows what personal turmoil they are experiencing.
Let’s take a collective deep breath and dig deep into our reserves of goodwill and hope for better times ahead.
This year, give the gift that everybody needs: compassion.
One size fits all.
Pam Frampton is The Telegram’s managing editor. Email [email protected]. Twitter: pam_frampton
