Christmas Presence

So, this month alone I have heard so many debates on the origins of Christmas, and we should or shouldn’t celebrate it, and why etc. It drives me nuts, and I am not going to go into those details here. I am sure the curious people can Google it. My story today is going around the “Christmas Spirit” and what it means to me.

For me, Christmas is all about presence. Whether I get gifts or not is immaterial to me, (‘scuse the pun). Don’t get me wrong, I always love getting new stuff, especially new books to read, I feel empty when I am not reading a good book. It keeps my brain alive. But that’s not all that does it for me.

It’s not even about the food. And I love food, absolutely love all gastronomical experience. All culinary adventures are part of the reason I exist. And especially Christmas feasts. It’s like fat boy heaven. Feasting is an essential part of any celebration, not to be ignored. However, this is not the focal point, despite how wonderful it can be.

So what is it about Christmas that gets me sooo excited?? I came to this conclusion, in part, due to a conversation I had with my Uncle and Aunt, Andrew and Julia, when I was visiting them on the North Coast last month. We were talking about exactly this, what should Christmas be about now days.  For me it’s all about the presence, the presence of my Family, my Aunts and Uncles, Cousins and Grandparents. My Parents, my Sisters.  It’s a day of good family quality time with my son, and my bestest friend in the whole world – Nicole my darling wife.

It’s all about the presence.

Have a beautiful Christmas.

Next update will be on the 29/12/2010.

I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that -- as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on their journeys.

CHARLES DICKENS, A Christmas Carol