Home For The Holidays

I LOVE Christmas. 

I am hopelessly, faithfully, desperately, wonderfully devoted and in love with Christmastime. I understand why so many people find this time of year depressing, but I never get hit with clouds of sun-deprived despair until after my 12 days of Christmas have come and gone. In York, the Christmas decorations were already up when I arrived here...on the 6th of October. There were plenty of somewhat harvesty decorations, and even more rows of Halloween decor and costumes, but these items were merely nestled in between and dwarfed by already glittering aisles of Christmas. Since Halloween the city has been enveloped in holiday cheer. As I walked around city centre today doing my last-minute gift shopping I felt like I was swept up in the live-action Grinch film with Jim Carey. If people had been dressed in more elaborate, colo[u]rful dress and had somehow sprouted funny noses and hair-do's I might well have believed I was in Who-Ville. The north of England, where I am living, claims that it doesn't get much snow on a typical year, but this month has been a-typical, and there has been quite a lot of snow-so much, in fact, that some major transportation authorities in the region have resigned. The snow and ice are only just melting, in time for Christmas, and the city, until now, has been a winter wonderland these last few weeks. It's been lovely. The cracks of the cobblestone streets were filled in with ice, which was treacherous to walk on but magnificent to look at. I, however, came prepared with L.L.Bean winter boots, so while lots of crazy girls were slipping and sliding in rain boots or (more commonly) stilettos, I was embracing my inner Maine-iac self and taking warm, confident steps.  I've been asked quite a bit lately why I've chosen to go home this vacation, rather than stay in the UK to experience what Christmas is like over here. The rest of this entry will hopefully answer why I'm going 'home for the holidays.' The Maine Christmas Song...

My house in Maine last Christmas. Yes, those are icicles.

The animals snuggling in front of the fireplace. It's my favorite place in my house too.

Out snowshoeing in the woods behind my house

Happy at Home

The cousins with Nana and Poppop

Christmas in my family means 13 of us finding our way to my Nana and Poppop's in Long Island. Cousins, Siblings, Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, (these days significant others), all find our way home for Christmas from wherever we happen to be around the world. For me, the days leading up to Christmas have always been built excitedly around the long drive from Maine to New York. While everyone sleeps in the car, my Dad and I stay up talking and singing together, and it's been this way since I was born I think. Since the advent of the Ipod I've taken on the role of keeping the music going most of the time, but 'Christmas With Delilah' is always on call, and we have fun tracing her from station to station as we travel further south. Annual highlights of the drive include passing by a gigantic cockroach statue(?) in Rhode Island, who, at Christmas, is given a huge red nose and antlers to wear by the extermination company he represents. We also stop in Mystic, Connecticut, most years, just before we board the Cross Sound Ferry.

On the Cross Sound Ferry

It's one of my favorite places in the whole world, and it's one of the most magical places I've ever been when it's sparkling with lights. We make quick stops at Munson's candy shop where my brother used to always get a fresh, chocolate dipped banana and I would get peanut brittle or pistachio fudge. In more recent years my sister seems to get decadent truffles or chocolate "crayons." My Dad usually rushes us along so that we won't miss our boat, but my mom always comes through, taking my hand, running

Gazebo In Mystic, Connecticut

with me past the beautiful log shops, classic church, and duck-filled pond, over to the Scandinavian store-it's been my favorite store in Mystic since the source of the better part of my 300+ angel collection closed down a few years ago after a lifetime of visits and last-minute Christmas purchases. Leaving Mystic we drive on to the ferry and ride across the Long Island Sound, my dad snoring away while we eat grilled cheese sandwiches, play board games and arcade games, read magazines, etc...Then, when the time comes, we walk out into the cold, coastal air, and the sea salt means we're almost home. The last two hours of the trip are always my sleepiest. I think I sleep through them simply because I've learned how wonderful it is to wake up to the feeling of the car slowing down and pulling in to my Nana and Poppop's development. When we walk inside my Poppop will hold me while long minutes pass. He gives the greatest hugs in all the world. My mom told me that when she first went home to meet my Dad's family, before they had even said a single word to each other, my Poppop took her in his arms and just held her for seemingly hours, and she cried feeling so cherished. I live for those hugs and mushy kisses. They're like the kisses in old, black and white movies. They feel classic and entirely full of love. My nana gets tinier and tiner by the visit, and as warm as my Poppop's hugs are, I feel like I'm holding onto a delicate china doll when I cuddle into the sweater-wrapped hugs of her, her soft hands cupping my face while I look into her beautiful teary eyes. We have the same eyes, my Nana and I, and we are kindred spirits in a way that I can't possibly explain.

Nana, JoJo

Getting my license, moving to Jersey, and being able to sneak her out in the middle of the night for midnight cheesecake and tea at assorted diners has defined our relationship for the last few amazing years. Christmas Eve is the most special night of all for me. I could even go without ever opening the presents the next day if I could keep the traditions our family has always had. My Mom cooks an unbelievable meal while all of us get dressed up for church, so by the time we get home it's all ready and waiting. But first we head to Ascension Lutheran for the Christmas Eve candlelight service, and I get my fill of vestments and stunning music. When all of us cousins were young we could fit on one pew, but as the family's grown now we take up nearly two. We still act like kids though, sneaking messages to each other throughout the service, trying to make our parents laugh. All of this until the lights go down and the candlelighting begins. That's when the congregation sings Silent Night, when my Poppop kisses my Nana's forehead while she leans on his shoulder and cries for the beauty of all. It's also when we giggle at my amazing Aunt RaRa who cries at everything because she looks at all of us and feels so happy. And I listen to my mom's beautiful voice, and I listen to my Dad improvising far more beautiful harmonies than the ones that are written, and I just sigh because in that moment life is so perfect. There have also been those years when my brother accidentally lights my sister's hair on fire while passing the candle...but he got the flame out quick so all was well. Interestingly enough he's also lit my hair on fire in the past, during the ice storm of '98 actually. Once we pile back into the car we carol sing our way back to the house where we eat tons and tons of delicious food. Once the meal is over and cleaned up and Nat King Cole's Christmas cd has come to an end, everyone runs around the house putting out presents. It's incredible, and so much fun. My pile always goes under the organ...it's been that way since I was born. Coincidence? I think not. When the piles are out, everyone else bundles up, gives hugs and kisses goodbye, and heads home, but my family stays. That's when Mom brings out the Christmas jammies. If you are amongst the body of friends who have lived with me you may have noticed that nearly all of my pajamas are Christmas-themed. This is largely due to the fact that I've been collecting Christmas jammies every year of my entire life, and I love them! As soon as we're comfy in new pj's and looking especially ready for Santa to arrive my sister and I sprinkle reindeer food on the lawn (for those wondering...this is a lovely blend of glitter and oatmeal) and put out a plate of cookies for a certain giant elf, and carrots for Rudolf, Vixen, and the others. Then it's off to sleep, or rather, hours of giggling and pretending until we believe that we hear hooves on the roof. In the morning when we wake up, always ridiculously early, we run into the living room and dive into our piles, and my Mom at some point sneaks away into the kitchen to make a delicious breakfast for the whole family, filling up the house with yummy smells that mix in a magical way with the smell of wrapping paper and scotch tape. Naps are my favorite annual activity on Christmas day. I am a huge fan of taking naps, but I inevitably have the deepest, most fulfilling sleeps on this particular day of the year, in this particular place, surrounded by these particular people who make up the loud, crazy, hilarious, affectionate family I'm blessed to call mine. Since you asked, that is why I'm going home for the holidays, and that is why I am so happy, right here, right now.

Another time-honored tradition is the trip I take every year into NYC with my little sister. We go in and do every quintessential Christmas thing we can find to do in the city-Rockefeller Center, Macy's windows, FAO Schwartz, you name it and we're there. This year will bring a special trip to one of our all-time favorite spots in the city-Alice's Tea Cup