He showed me the most extravagantly decorated houses in the area and took me to all the Christmas aperitifs where there was sweet eggnog and Christmas stollen. For Christmas itself, he insisted on going to at least four parties, and he always had baked goods packed. For weeks he beamed like a child. Although, like many representatives of forced missionary peoples, he is quite critical of Christianity itself. But Christmas is different. “After all, the winter solstice was celebrated in all cultures,” he explained with a shrug and offered me a huge red and white striped Christmas candy.
As I got to know him better, I realized that he never misses an opportunity to celebrate. If only because he spends most of his life in doctors’ offices, emergency rooms and hospital beds. And I allowed myself to be re-infected by his enthusiasm. For me, the end of family life in the traditional sense meant the end of all Christmas traditions. And to be honest, it was not only painful, but also a relief. Don’t underestimate the stress that can accompany the holidays. And, as I understood from afar, mostly homemade. Or at least in my case. That’s why I was able to get something out of these holidayless years without tradition, but also without expectations and demands, and therefore without stress.
But with Victor, I learned that I can have both. All the Christmas kitsch I’ve always loved and the freedom I don’t need. I enthusiastically bake all the old-fashioned Swiss Christmas cookies, which I always come out with a little sheps, and here the “Old World” impresses with its bonus. I overload the living room, which is already decorated all year round with garlands and silhouette flags, with everything that sparkles and glitters. I buy two Christmas trees and donate one to a women’s shelter. One day I was solemnly blessed by two nuns who happened to be there. It couldn’t be more Christmasy! Sometimes we have guests over, sometimes we go to friends’ houses, sometimes we lie in bed and watch The Little Lord. Every year I rejoice like a child. Everything is possible on Christmas.
And it has always been that way. Looking back, I can no longer explain why I felt it was absolutely necessary for me to live up to all these imaginary and sometimes real expectations, to realize all these ideas and emulate ideals. The more I wanted to do it, the more exhausted I got, and the closer the celebrations were, the thinner my nerves.
My mother, who always had an unmistakable sore spot, said during one of those Christmas parties what everyone was probably thinking: “It’s just not good when you’re so tense, no one can feel good about it!” I couldn’t hear it then. I’m afraid I burst into tears, which didn’t improve my mood either. But looking back, I was grateful to her for being right. Christmas has nothing to do with perfection. The only thing that really matters is joy. And love. For everything else, a pizza delivery man was invented. Or, in our case, a taco truck.
Milena Moser
Source: Blick
I am David Miller, a highly experienced news reporter and author for 24 Instant News. I specialize in opinion pieces and have written extensively on current events, politics, social issues, and more. My writing has been featured in major publications such as The New York Times, The Guardian, and BBC News. I strive to be fair-minded while also producing thought-provoking content that encourages readers to engage with the topics I discuss.
