Looking back with a chuckle at Christmases of the past

Photo: Contributed

A particular sing-along Handel's Messiah is just of columnist Kristin Peturson-Laprise's Christmas memories.

Christmas can be a stressful time, full of expectations and comparisons.

We see all kinds of messages about how it should look and feel and sound – often full of mirth, with everything seeming just right.

It occurred to me this week, as I was reminiscing while baking, that many of my favourite Christmas memories are of times that were not tied up with a bow.

I thought I’d share a few this week as a hopeful reminder that all those stories really are true—Christmas doesn’t come from a store, and it is the thought that counts most.

I love Christmas carols, especially when I can sing along with a choir. One year, when I was in university, my mom came out to Vancouver to visit and suggested we attend a sing-along holiday performance with the local symphony and a professional choir. I was all for it. They played and sang Handel’s Messiah, a beautiful concert.

The only problem was, we only knew the Hallelujah Chorus. Did we ever feel silly, too lost to even hum in many parts but then going all out for the chorus. Since then, I have kept singing of carols aloud to during my dog walks.

Our family was keen on Christmas and always happy to share in the fun, but we took great pride in how we valued our traditional experiences. We should have known when we hopped on the trend of hosting a tree-decorating party that we weren’t good candidates.

It was a joyous party with lots of friends attending. But once all the guests left, my brother and parents and I let out a collective groan – didn’t these people know that big ornaments went on the bottom and small ones at the top? It turns out we were Christmas snobs about our traditions.

I have softened as I have aged. I am more open now, keen to experience many interpretations of decorating and baking and other traditions. I attended the Festival of Trees at Mission Hill winery this year and loved all the trees.

There are traditional elements that evolve over time too. As a child I cherished the beloved “Holly Man” my mom would put out each year (he was a few Styrofoam balls with a bit of plastic holly and a felt top hat to trim his snowman shape). My grown-up version is a ceramic salt and pepper set in the shape of an elegant and robust snowman.

Technology has also taken many things to a new level. When I was little we had the animated Grinch with Dr. Seuss’ original story told by a narrator. Now there is a real-life version with a much-expanded story that fills out the theme. When we checked on Santa’s progress, it was on Christmas Eve when CBC would connect with NORAD operators to hear their radar reports. Today there is a website (link: https://www.noradsanta.org/en/ ) that runs through the season, complete with online games and songs.

All holidays involve some nostalgia. When we repeat a similar experience, we build on memories and create our own framework for the future. It can sometimes be hard to let go of old expectations and embrace something new or different. Families and friends combine during these times too, and that makes it challenging when everyone hopes for a magical time that fits their desires.

My memories this week reminded me the magic was in the mess, not in the moment, when we are fortunate enough to gather again with loved ones. Sometimes it’s a chance to laugh together about sharing a vulnerable moment. Other times it’s a way to remember those we don’t have with us, bringing their memory to life with a special story.

We can’t buy memories at a store or online, but it is, I believe, the most wonderful way to honour the spirit of the season

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.