Christmas was rather a yearly tradition that we adopted, celebrated solely as a peaceful gathering of family and close friends, because as it seems the majority of the people, especially families, need a date and a reason in order to overcome past peculiar quarrels and focus on the one thing that matters most: Love.
A religious holiday, even in a non religious family, is the best subconscious force of it all - my parents knew that and took blunt advantage of it: family and friends would dress up, hug each other intensely, kiss and laugh. Those who walked into our apartment would forgive and forget - all in the name of the holiday. Cicero was right: ' An unjust peace is better than a just war.'
On nights like that, we would enjoy a never ending homemade dinner whose smell would blend perfectly with the smell of the tree, the smell of sweet burning wood from the fireplace, the smell of the masses of fresh white snow that the winter breeze would try to squeeze in, and the smell of the people I love. Needless to say that until this day, this very smell is the exquisite perfume of a long lost joyous time.
Dinner was usually followed by the mandatory gift exchange where my poor parents seemed disadvantaged to me. My sister and I would get various gifts in different shapes and sizes, wrapped beautifully in colorful gift paper, with bows and ribbons from all the people who attended dinner, while my parents would nod and smile, be polite by the book and thankful for their health.
It was perfectly fine for me to gratify my dad every year with a new tie that I could afford with pocket-money that I received from him. At the end of his life he was the proud proprietor of an entire tie collection and I wondered if I should have asked him for a pocket-money raise back then in order to buy him a nice watch. I came to the sober conclusion that it would have made no sense at all . Looking back, I see how the entire 'pocket-money-gift' from kid to parent was nothing but an act of Love and the living proof that it is the thought that counts.
It was one of the best days of the year, considering the fact that it was not my birthday but actually the one of someone else I never knew. Plus if you think about it: when else is it nowadays socially acceptable to put an entire chopped down tree into your apartment?
Moving to New York City with no family and close friends by my side had many downsides apart from the one that I had no one that I could have forced to cheer up, celebrate and love for the sake of Christmas - let alone the gift exchange.
Years later I might be physically not surrounded by my family, but thanks to modern technology, we force gather online and have a blast. I am delighted to spend my Christmases with wonderful, loving friends. We might not cook the 5 course dinner, but then again, we live in New York where time and space are limited, where gluten-free meatballs and fondue accompanied by many nice glasses of wine and 'all i want for christmas' on Pandora, followed by ice cream and 'Love actually' are synonym for a 5 course family dinner in Europe.
And when I arrived at my friend's apartment in lovely Stuyvesant Town, straight from the hospital with no makeup on and in my PJs from the morning, the most festive attire about me were my new winter boots and a bottle of wine. When I was welcomed at the entrance door with warm hugs and kisses by Jillian and Lidia, it was Love actually. Clearly it really is the thought that counts.
