GOLDEN HOUR by Billie Gold

CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

I wondered to myself the other day why I feel more Christmassy this year.

Usually at this time of year I’m already stressed with how I’m going to afford everything, and how I’m going to get around to visit everyone. Considering that this has been the most turbulent year most of us have ever lived through, with stress less so on thriving and being the best we can be, and simply being put on surviving, you would be forgiven for thinking that Christmas 2020 would be looking pretty damn bleak.

I reckon I can give up a cheap flight to somewhere just a little bit warmer in favour of something closer to home, and closer to the people who need a little bit of extra kindness this year

Instead I’m finding myself getting excited when I see Christmas lights being put up, and last night being happy to be standing on my balcony on the first night of lockdown with a blanket around my shoulders watching the fireworks. And when I asked other people, it seems as a nation we have simply given up on thoughts of excess. Could it be that Christmas spirit could be a real thing?

I remember when my family was on a mission to prove how big we could do Christmas when I was a kid. All 14 of us crammed on to a coach and over to Spain, where I had one of the worst Christmases of my life, not just because my family is a living nightmare, but because it just didn’t feel like Christmas and the gastric flu we all caught on the way back didn’t help. Going to another country to prove that we could be fancy too only left us feeling like something was missing.

With us not being able to travel much of anywhere this year, or if we did manage to get a holiday in it was ruled by restrictions and safety concerns, it makes sense that the little bit of sparkle at the end of the year would feel more sentimental than usual. I’m not really one to get mushy, but this year has made me re-evaluate what’s important. At the start of the year I was set on getting away at the end of the year, but for a year when people have hardly left their house, I reckon I can give up a cheap flight to somewhere just a little bit warmer in favour of something closer to home, and closer to the people who need a little bit of extra kindness this year.

This year has been weird enough, so it stands to reason that Christmas will be equally as weird. Perhaps I’ll go to a creepy cottage and stare wistfully out of the window, in a house that looks like it should be on a biscuit tin, or perhaps I’ll just host Christmas here with my family – chosen and blood – and be grateful that we’re able to be together and trade awful cracker jokes.

Holidays are great, and one day soon we’ll be able to travel without restriction, but in the meantime I’m happy to peel and roast the spuds myself.