It is the morning of the Second Day of Christmas. I feel in a particularly reflective mood. This has been a very good Christmas and I say it before it is actually over, but for me, the festivities are done, and now it is time for some reflecting and reminiscing. This Christmas was unusual from one perspective. I have not experienced any sadness that typically came over my Christmas moods. The sadness related to changes, departures and missing something. At times I could not understand myself as such moods came over me at the peak times of my life, times when actually nothing was missing. Maybe I have eventually accepted the rhythm of life, its seasons and reasons? Maybe I do not desire my life to be better than it is as it is actually as good as it gets? Anyway, it has been a very good Christmas without a feeling of loneliness that I experienced in the past.
I reflect on the memorable Christmases, the ones I not only remember but the ones I treasure and the ones that shook me up n some way, not necessarily positive. My first memory of Christmas is not particularly happy, I was very small then, and according to some psychological science, I should not be able to remember it. I must have been about two years old, and I got a big teddy bear as my Christmas present. I should have been happy, but the cuddly toy seemed to be too big and scary. My parents put it in my arms for a photo, as they thought that he will be my friend. I endured the process, but I do not look happy on the photo. Do I really remember the event? I think so when I think about the big teddy I the feeling of terror arises in me. Not too brave girl, hmmm…
The second memory is almost a spiritual one. I was in my early twenties, and after the family dinner at my parents on Christmas Eve, we all decided to go to the midnight mass. My parents, grandmother, brother and my husband Ryszard. My family was never particularly religious or musical, and I am not sure who made the suggestion to walk to the church for the mass and singing Christmas carols, but it was a brilliant suggestion, and the event stayed vivid in my memory till now. It was Poland in winter, the fresh snow covered the streets and that brought this very special peaceful silence of placed muffled by the snow cover. One has to experience this type of silence to understand my spiritual feelings while walking across the little park to the church. We were all silenced even if a moment earlier we talked and joked being bouncily happy. The only sound was the crispy sound of our steps in few centimetres deep snow. Nobody but us in the streets and this absolutely white and sparkling snow around us. Silent night…
Forgive me for being maybe even pathetic in my writing, but this is such a special memory…
The next memorable Christmas was again at my parents. This was a few years later, there was a new man in my life who insisted on marrying me and he wanted to go about it in a traditional way formally proposing to my parents. We were driving from Warsaw to my parents’ place some 200 km away passing the snow covered landscape, both being nervously excited and happy. Suddenly Hans said, give me the ring, give me the ring! I had been already wearing my engagement ring, but now it became clear that it has been premature. So I took the ring off to receive it back after my parents' formal agreement to the marriage with a foreigner! Now, armed with the sign of his commitment and affection with a huge bunch of orchids for my mother my future husband was ready to face the future in-laws. Boy, we were a sweet young couple with the whole happy life ahead of us. He got accepted, needless to say, the ring went back on my finger a few hours later. It all happened on the Christmas Eve of 1973. Or was it 74?
Even if the marriage ran its course some years ago as the love lasts and passes, I still have this ring on my finger, and I wear it with sentiments of remembering the love of my life.
There have been many lovely Christmases since that time. The Swedish one in Hilversum in Holland, the very hot one spent partly in our swimming pool in St. Ives, actually many hot ones in Sydney, and then another cold one returning to Poland. This was a very special one as well, reuniting with my brother and his family and then moving on to the second Christmas Eve dinner with my best friend Basia, I wrote about before.
I will remember this year Christmas Eve for the mature feelings of acceptance of turbulences and changes in life and appreciation of friendship.