Not cancelled

Christmas was always going to be different for me this year - the first without my mum. As it happens, it will be different for all of us. The new variant of the coronavirus has led the government to slap restrictions on large parts of the country that were not expected. People were already facing the awkwardness and anguish of choosing what households they would be allowed to meet over the sanctioned five-day period. Now those decisions have been taken out of our hands. Some are allowed to meet no one outside of their own household. The lucky ones can meet one other household on Christmas day. I say lucky, but it's a privilege that wasn't extended to the followers of other religions this year. Muslims, Jews and others have had to have lockdown celebrations, sometimes at very short notice. We've been given a bit of notice at least. It's easier for me in that I don't care so much for Christmas. Since my dad died, I've associated it with sadness. For years it was just my mum, sister and me who were thrown together on the 25th. Mum did her best to try and make things nice, but I don't think any of our hearts were in it. I always preferred the days either side of Christmas Day when I could meet friends, get drunk and forget about things. It changed when my sister and I had families of our own. The focus on children allows those of us who are not spiritual to find a purpose in Christmas beyond providing a massive drive for the retail sector. Young kids in particular get giddy with excitement in a way that I can barely recall. It's quite intoxicating and something I shall probably miss when my two become as lackadaisical about Christmas as I am. My wife is the complete opposite of me in her regard for Yuletide. She absolutely adores it, and the pleasure she takes has softened me somewhat and helped me appreciate it a bit more. She has a large, close and loving family who enjoy a get together, especially this one. As such, she has been hit harder by the doors slamming shut on the traditional loosen your stays festive blowout. So this year it's just the four of us, with possibly a friend popping round later on Christmas Day. We will, of course, have our Zoom contacts, which will be something. An interesting aspect of the pandemic is how it has affected communication. We were all in danger of slipping into non-verbal means of staying in touch - texts, Facebook comments, enojis, thumbs up, kudos... Nobody says what they mean any more - we're too busy trying to present our best lives. Not being able to meet face to face for a good deal of the year has perhaps made us appreciate the value of talking to others. Sometimes, as I've sat through stilted Zooms, it has felt like we're relearning how to speak to each other as we're forced to interact in real time, read facial expressions and interpret body language. There's an awkwardness and frailty to our conversations that we can't hide. Everyone has shed a skin. So this Christmas isn't cancelled. It's just different. For some, that will be a good thing, while others will find it tough. Like many things this year, it will make us reassess the normal and everyday, including how we celebrate and how we show our appreciation for other. I don't think we'll be having Christmas in summer, once we've all had the jab, as some are promising. If this year has taught me anything it's that sometimes you make a decision and move on. We cant live our lives looking backwards to see what we might have done differently. Enjoy the Christmas you can, and don't mourn what you can't have.