Chapter 295: Christmas Day begins...

 

Christmas Day in Tasmania in the year 2020 is a day my family celebrate being a family. On Christmas Day my family gets together and celebrates each other.

 

Christmas Day began on Christmas Eve. Driving with my grandkids through barren, deserted suburbs looking for a few isolated, subdued and embarrassed Christmas lights.  The proud house owners all said they were doing it for the kids. Our kids were quiet, stunned, stared and said little.

 

Christmas Day continued with the Montrose parkrun. We joined a large communal group of several hundred runners. Most of us dressed in Christmas shirts or hats; ran as normal and then departed.

And then the day became all  about presents.  My grandchildren received more presents than they could keep track of.  

 

Us adults gave and received one present. We didn’t  know who our present was coming from or going to. It was a secret. Somebody called this Secret Santa.

 

Because Secret Santa is not an established custom, in its infant stage, we needed rules. Our rules were every adult puts a present under the tree. Every adult receives a present. When the adult receives a present, they also have to nominate their word of the year and receive a challenge.

 

The challenges people randomly received were:

Tell everybody about the year you had a memorable Christmas. When? Why? What?

Tell everybody something you have always wanted to receive and never have?

Tell everybody a Christmas memory you have never ever told anybody.

What do you normally say when you receive a present you loathe?

What is the most memorable Christmas present you have ever received? And the story behind it.

Talk about a memorable Christmas present you gave.

Tell everybody about a time at Christmas you lied.

Talk about a Christmas food you’d love to eat all year.

Talk about a Christmas food you avoid. A food that means no thanks I’m full.

 

The challenges are given out randomly. Some result in stunned silence. Some result in voluminous chatter, joyous laughter and everybody adding to the story.

 

A popular challenge is talk about a memorable year. Why was it memorable? What happened? Everybody thought of a different year. For me a memorable year was my first Christmas in South Africa. I was a wandering Aussie backpacker a long way from home. I found friendship and fellowship in unexpected places with unlikely company. 

 

The Christmas memory I have never ever told anybody is the year I went into a pharmacy. I wandered the aisles and filled a basket with multiple presents.  I left the pharmacy with every single Christmas present I needed. Job done in about ten minutes.

 

The most memorable Christmas present I received was more than 50 years ago. I received a much longed for cricket bat. I polished and slept with the bat. I proudly took it to a school holiday program. A much bigger kid looked at my bat. He said: “That looks good. Can I use it.”

He took his stance. A ball was bowled. He raised my bat, belted the ball and gave me back a broken and useless bat. My thesaurus doesn’t adequately describe my disappointment and devastation. 

 

One challenge that initially resulted in silence was the one about lies. Everybody said: You can’t ask that. Nobody said a thing. Later that day everybody came and told me of the time they lied.

 

My only lie was the year when I said: When  I get older I’ll  get dressed up as Father Christmas. That looks like fun.

The truth is I am now older and I’m not going to do it. Wearing a hot red suit and fake beard doesn’t look like fun.

Talk about Christmas food confirms that I am the only person alive who likes, enjoys or even eats plum pudding. In the future if I want  to eat plum pudding I’ll have to buy my own, if they still sell it, and eat the lot.

 

Interspersed between adults attempting to avoid the spotlight we have grandkids doing the exact opposite. Aiming for the spotlight and centre stage. They sing and dance a few items. For them it is a case of: Do I have too. Can I do it again.

 

The nominations for word of the year were: unprecedented, scrolling, social isolation, quarantine, zoom, mask, PPE, new normal, hand sanitiser, year like no other.

 

But for me I will remember 2020 for one word. The name that originally meant pure. The word that in 2020 changed its meaning. The name that people lovingly named their sensitive, caring, empathic daughters. The word that many unfortunate and unlucky people have been stuck with: Karen.