The middle of March might be a strange time to (finally) get round to writing about Christmas but bear with me... it relates to something that happened more recently, which I'll get to later.
Whereas every Christmas I've experienced up until 2012 (yep, even after I moved out of my parents' home) was spent with a selection of my immediate family, with visits from grandparents and/or great uncles and aunts becoming gradually rarer as they did, and contact with my uncle being limited to the occasional "hello" as he dropped his mother off with us on not-quite-alternate years, Christmas 2013 was something very different... because, when my girlfriend asked if I'd like to spend Christmas with her family, it's entirely possible I was a little too eager to respond in the affirmative.
I can still remember one rather dramatic Christmas - even though it was at least fifteen years ago - that I had a bit of a meltdown because each year had been becoming eerily, if not depressingly similar around that time. One or both of the grandmothers would come round and tolerate each other, my father would argue with his mother, my mother would be radiating stress with every fibre of her being, and there would be lots of long, awkward silences. When my sister and I were nippers, we'd wake up around 2am and raid our stockings in a vain attempt to pass the time before we could rip open our real presents stacked under the tree (starting out with a small, artificial one which later gave way to a real tree until my mother got fed up with them shedding needles on the carpet and brought the small, artificial one out of its exile in the loft), and the structured approach to presents only really came in when we were older and not quite so hyperactive. In fact, it possibly coincided with our development of the ability to sleep through Christmas Eve to a reasonable hour on Christmas morning. Attain that level of patience, and you can probably wait for your bigger presents.
But anyway... the routine nature of Christmas really got to me one year, and I found myself unable to get out of bed and face the day, because I knew exactly how it would play out. My mother, under enough stress already, took this as me being merely uncooperative, and started getting quite angry about it. Eventually, she sent my sister up to fetch me, and I whined for a while about being unable to deal with "another choreographed Christmas" (a little unfair, in retrospect, since they were never really planned to any degree beyond 'lunch will be at X o'clock'). After a few minutes, she talked me into getting out of bed... but then I started hyperventilating and she remarked that it looked as if I was having a panic attack and, observing that she was probably right, I burst out crying.
As an aside, this was probably my first ever panic attack - of that kind, at least - but I had several similar ones a good few years later in a completely different context.
Once I'd settled down, we both went downstairs. My mother tried to behave as if nothing untoward had happened, that I'd simply slept late, but the strain was writ large on her face and there was a definite sense that I'd be pushing my luck if I caused any other trouble for the next week or so. After that, though, the day went OK... Predictable, but OK. That was probably the worst Christmas I've ever had, and nothing has been as bad since, so I guess that was all the catharsis I needed.
In more recent years, with one grandmother dead and the other permanently in a nursing home due to Alzheimer's, Christmas tends to be a smaller, quieter affair. That said, with a young niece paying a visit either on Christmas Day or Boxing Day (alternating between my side of the family and my brother-in-law's), things tend to be a bit more interesting, if only because there's never the opportunity for any long, awkward silences anymore. Even so, it's still pretty much the same sort of Christmas as it's been for the last few years: we get together, we have a big Christmas lunch, we open our presents, we watch some telly and, eventually, those of us who aren't staying will head home (cadging a lift where possible).
Then we come to 2013. I'm in a relationship, just past the first year milestone, I've met my girlfriend's parents a number of times, and stayed at their place for a couple of weekends over the summer while she was home from university. It wasn't a great surprise to be invited over for Christmas because they've been so friendly and positive toward me so, feeling a little daring (not to mention reluctant to have another holiday season almost identical to last year's), I happily accepted. I headed down a few days before Christmas without any set idea of when I - or rather, we - would be returning, except that it would ideally be before New Year so we could celebrate the arrival of 2014 'properly, as a couple'. The only worry was whether or not we'd end up getting snowed in.
It was an odd experience both being away from home and being away from my family, but my girlfriend's family are very welcoming, so I've felt like part of their family since the first time I visited them. Even so, when I first arrived and started thinking about how many days there were before Christmas, I started wondering if I'd mistimed my arrival. With the nearest large town still being small enough that much of it starts slowing down and closing up when London would be getting ready for the evening's entertainment, many of the options that had been available during the summer were no longer available and, in any case, the town became gradually more crowded in the few days running up to Christmas. Nevertheless, as it turned out, I could probably have made use of another couple of days if I'd arrived earlier.
Christmas Day was a very different family affair than I'm used to. My girlfriend's family tend to interact with each other rather more, if only because of the way the house is laid out and the way, for example, breakfast isn't 'a family meal' as such, but people are walking in, out and through the kitchen quite frequently at that time of day. It was only really after lunchtime that we actually gathered in the lounge and started unwrapping presents, and that's where one of the major differences in our families came to light.
I've always been accustomed to short 'wish lists' and the idea of everyone buying each other a single present. Here, I found that my girlfriend's family, collectively, had bought about half the items on my wish list, then picked up a few additional bits and bobs just for fun. My girlfriend had gone entirely off-list and picked up a couple of awesome new recipe books for my kitchen, one of which I wasn't even aware of before I unwrapped it. But it wasn't just me that had been inundated with amazing gifts - everyone had a large pile to get through... which left me feeling a little inadequate because I'd kept to my own family tradition of getting single presents for each of them. So when my girlfriend's mother provided a list of books she wanted, for example, I'd bought one of them... and my girlfriend bought all the others. Even my girlfriend's sister's boyfriend had bought presents for everyone, when neither my girlfriend nor I had thought to pick up anything for him. I spent a good long while on Christmas day feeling guilty and quite miserly because, comparatively, I hadn't been very generous... but then, I'd been out of work - bar a few days here and there - since the middle of the year, so I tried not to feel too bad about it... Nobody complained, so I guess it was OK...
Later on in the day, there was a game of Monopoly that almost traumatised my girlfriend - had I fully understood how competitive board games can get between her family, I may not have insisted on joining the game... Not even my girlfriend's sudden silence and timidity clued me in, and it only became clear when she very nearly curled up into the foetal position when it got a bit shouty. Once the game was over - following a bitter dispute between father and youngest daughter - we returned to the quiet, safety and relative normalcy of my girlfriend's room, but she didn't quite recover from the experience until the next day.
On those days when we could, we popped out - usually just into town - but the family also paid a couple of visits to one of the more elderly and infirm members of the family in his care home. He's in a similar situation to my grandmother and, while my folks (or my mother, at least) visit her quite regularly, I only see her once in a blue moon... which is a little embarrassing. I can't remember with any certainty, but I suspect that during 2013 I saw more of my girlfriend's grandfather than I did of my own grandmother.
We came back a couple of days before New Year's Eve (avoiding some maintenance works on the direct route between there and London) and ended up not going out for the festivities or even staying up much after midnight, but it was amazingly cool to be back in my own flat with my girlfriend for that momentous occasion - after our first Christmas together as a couple, our first New Year together... Her coursework permitting, we've been spending the weekends together since and are making plans and provisions for her to move in with me this summer.
As an aside, here, it's worth mentioning that, when my girlfriend first discussed this nascent plan with her parents, they were not only overwhelmingly positive, but they expressed surprise that we hadn't done it already. My folks were rather more subdued - as always - but still positive.
More recently, my girlfriend invited me to one of two family events. There was a wedding and a birthday occurring on the same day and the birthday seemed to be the preferred option. I gladly accepted because I'm very keen to be her 'plus one' at any family event where I'm welcome (which seems to be all of them, so far). The idea was that we'd get the train to the nearest station, then get picked up by her folks in their car. Just for a change, it was an incredibly smooth journey (apart from one fraught moment at the interchange station when we initially couldn't find an information board - I mean, seriously, eight platforms and only one information board listing all departures? - but still managed to catch our connection with a few minutes to spare.
As it turned out, the event was a surprise birthday party, in that lots of family and friends had been invited, but the person whose birthday it was (my girlfriend's Godmother) had been expecting only a small event with the few members of family and friend who were either already there, visiting, or living nearby.
They were all just as friendly and welcoming as my girlfriend's family, and a lot of the time we were there, I was being gently quizzed about the usual things people ask about in these situations when they're meeting the significant other of someone they've known for years for the first time. I found myself inwardly squirming whenever someone asked about work because I'm still currently 'between jobs'. The best I could offer was a brief summary of the kind of work I normally do and the news that I was a candidate for a job at a rather prestigious newspaper. I felt quite flattered that everyone who asked presumed that I'd met my girlfriend at her college, since that allowed me to infer that I must look younger than I am (putting that in perspective, though, while out shopping recently, the staff on a supermarket checkout asked who would be paying because we'd picked up a selection of alcoholic drinks. My girlfriend pointed in my direction, and the staffmember asked her "is that your dad?")
Yet again, I was amazed by now natural it felt to be in the company of all these people I didn't know, simply because they were all very friendly and welcoming, and I was there as my girlfriend's significant other.
I guess the point of this post is that I'm beginning to see how weird my family are from an outsider's perspective and, possibly, my girlfriend is beginning to see how nice her family are from an outsider's perspective. When I first met her parents, her mother had brought along loads of old photos so, when my girlfriend first met my parents, my mother did the same... but wouldn't have done unless I'd mentioned it. The first time my girlfriend visited my parents' home, the only reason she didn't start thinking they disliked her was because I'd forewarned her that long, awkward silences are the norm in that household. I strongly suspect that neither set of parents really knows what to do with grown-up children, but my girlfriend's parents are more active in trying to remain relevant and important in their children's lives. While my folks are very much "here when you need us", they're not in such frequent and close contact.
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