Christmas en Famille

Christmas staff in the kitchen 

Another pause in the blogs due to late-onset panic over Christmas fast approaching. In the event, all was serenely ready chez moi with absolutely no evidence of feet paddling furiously below water! Lights, tree, greenery, berries, tinsel; all was in place. The Suffolk branch of the family arrived safely on Friday the 22 Dec while the Californian contingent appeared on Saturday 23. They had vowed to bring Christmas to me and they kept their promise handsomely. Cait and Olivia had done a mega Waitrose shop of food and drink to cover the four days of celebration; Sian and Rob arrived with copious quantities of alcohol bought in England between their UK arrival on Friday and departure for Brugge on Saturday. My own generous quantities of beer and wine were hardly touched though the sheer number of empty bottles by D for Departure Day on Wednesday 27 was awesome. My terrace, windswept and far from its lovely autumn-hued best, served nonetheless as a capacious outdoor repository for the alcohol, the turkey the ham, etc. ‘Repository’ seems an appropriate word for the wealth of food and drink on display.

 View from our breakfast table

in Blackbird on Christmas Eve.

Outside, almost deserted;

inside, candle-lit and humming.

‘The Family’ was marvellous in doing everything and not permitting me to do anything. Any number of times as I slunk away from the kitchen area [kitchenette is a more accurate word] in the face of a barrage of ‘Go and sit down; we’re doing it all,’ which was marvellous in lots of ways, not least

letting others face the challenge of a single oven and a tiny kitchen area in which to prepare, cook and serve Christmas dinner for seven. I pondered other nuances not dreamt of by ‘Those In Charge’ but felt subliminally by me. And not always subliminally! Irritation, resentment, the immediate consequences of ageing, of slowing down, of Not Being In Charge as usual. AND the reluctant acknowledgement that, in fact, I just couldn’t have managed to cook the super Christmas meal [and other meals] that the lovely others produced. I sometimes congratulate myself silently on being well-balanced in letting go of things I can no longer manage, like running or the complex organisation of an event, for instance. I tell myself that that is mature ageing; embrace the many things I can do and relinquish those I can’t without a fuss. But somehow, with Christmas and family meals, there was an inner discord which jangled; an unintended undermining of the Essential Mother, the Inner Matriarch, which I hadn’t expected or perhaps didn’t know existed. On some level, I minded and unreasonably felt displaced, while being incredibly grateful for all that my daughters, grand-daughters and son-in-law [the lone brave male present!] so cheerfully did, so well.

It was lovely to spend so long a period with grand-daughters too; mine are aged between almost 7 and 24, I rarely spend an extended time with any of them. The uninhibited dance routines, boisterous singing including rap, hugely cheerful and loving presence of the six year old proved to be irresistible to all of us. The quiet beauty and elegance, plus the interesting depths of the sixteen year old were a delight to observe. While the incredible amount of work, planning, list-making, organisation while remaining so willing and cheerful, by the oldest was an astonishing and impressive performance.

In the New York Times of Friday 29 December, I read an interesting article, Can Kindness Be Taught? A number of American pre-schools are trying to do just that, thanks to a challenge from the Dalai Lama. The Centre for Healthy Minds at the University of Wisconsin has developed a Kindness Curriculum through which very young children are helped to pay attention to their emotions. This is interesting particularly because I noticed this Christmas how transformed in many ways is my youngest grand-daughter. When I was in California in April, she could best be described as ‘tricky’; sometimes co-operative and charming but often surly and unco-operative. This time, a much more mature girl was present; not only helpful, funny and entertaining but also with an underlying concern to be kind and thoughtful towards others. Any number of times she quoted how important it is to be kind and sensitive to others’ needs. Her parents said that the Roman Catholic school she attends sets great store by sensitive behaviour towards others and it also encourages its pupils to look into their own emotions; how they feel, etc. I have no idea if this is simply far-sighted school policy or perhaps

adherence to the Kindness Curriculum but the result was impressive; hugely so.
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This is not a kindness!

One example of regal Festive rest.