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At Christmas I spent roughly a day-and-a-half with
a handful of people from my partner’s family. Again, everyone was
healthy and the extended family stayed away.
I stayed home on New Years’ with a drink or two in hand, and I went
to bed just after midnight. I woke up easy and started the year well
enough.
Everything was simpler and quieter. Were it not for the reasons why,
I would have appreciated it even more.
Last year was a concentrated effort on the parts of so many people
to avoid gathering together and spreading corona virus. It clearly
wasn’t enough, because we’re still dealing with the same problem,
and it’s arguably worse.
Then again, I think it’s enough to have one major holiday between
November and December, but no one agrees with me on that, either.
In the interest of complete honesty, in a perfect world we wouldn’t
gather together at all this year. That’s not a joke - it’s not worth
risking death just to hear your uncle complain about young people
again and eat the same dry turkey.
But to humor those who think that things are somehow “better” this
year, let me paint you a picture of what I think gathering for the
holidays should look in 2021. People are really going to try their
best to have a “traditional” gathering, like we did prior to 2020.
I’m here to say that that probably won’t work. And it doesn’t really
need to, either.
I’ll start with food, the drawing feature of most holidays. If I
learned anything in 2020, it’s that time truly has no meaning. I
went to bed in March, and I woke up in September. I think I looked
outside and saw snow at one point, but I couldn’t remember what
month it was; my calendar just said “Wednesday.”
Whatever day of the week it is, the point is that we can eat
anything at any time. I propose that any holiday meal be composed of
a potluck. Everybody brings one thing- fresh or frozen, in a bag or
out of the garden. Serve your turkey with a side of homemade pizza
and a breakfast casserole. Put the stuffing next to a plate of
dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets (those are mine, by the way). Drop
the Christmas ham next to a rack of ribs right off the grill.
The point is that time is meaningless, so eat everything now. Serve
it all with disposable dishes and plastic silverware. That was
something else I learned last year- everything can be served in a
carryout box. It saves on dishes, water, and complaints.
The food is actually the easy part of the picture. The hard part is
the rules of engagement. I have a hard enough time socializing
without a deadly disease in the air. But here’s the thing - now
everyone else has the same problem. You’ll see what I mean this year
- some people have isolated so long that they’ve forgotten how to
speak in groups.
Here’s the thing to remember - it’s not that big of a deal. Think
back to past years - when was socializing with relatives you only
see once a year easy in the first place? The correct answer is
never. So forgive yourself if you can’t figure out anything to
actually talk about. Small talk is empty air anyway.
Enjoy the silence or fill it with something that actually matters.
“But what’s worth talking about?” you may ask. I don’t know why
you’re asking me. I’m terrible at conversation. But if you have to
talk about something, I might have an idea or two.
First, talk about the food. Whatever holiday you’re
celebrating, food is ever-present, as we’ve previously discussed.
Maybe you’ll get lucky and the conversation will end as everyone
falls into a food coma.
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Talk to the kids, if there are any around. I may not
need to socialize, but you know who does? Children.
Let them steer the conversation. I know- I don’t like current kids’
shows either. But you know what I do like to see? When a kid is in a
good mood because an adult actually listened to them.
Kids are really just little people, and that means they want to be
heard. So shut up and listen to them yammer about dogs in costumes.
When the kids eventually turn away and you’re ready for an adult
conversation, ignore that impulse. And there’s a reason I say that.
Think of any adult conversation you’ve had in the last five years.
Does it make your blood pressure rise? Mine is just writing this
sentence. Then realize you’re lucky to be alive at this point and
talk about literally anything that actually relaxes you.
Finally, I want to address the medical elephant in the room, so to
speak. I want to see holiday gatherings where everyone is
comfortable and willing to be there.
Don’t be that person - don’t guilt trip your family and friends into
gathering if they don’t want to risk exposure to an actual airborne
disease. I don’t care who it is - if someone says “I don’t feel
safe,” you say, “I understand. We’ll video chat and see each other
as soon as it is safe.”
Even if someone who is in attendance says “I need to step outside, I
can’t be in a group as easily as I used to,” you say, “Sure - take
your time.”
Normally I love watching a guilt trip from the sidelines; it’s
practically a spectator sport. But this is not the time; just let
people have their space, and don’t treat it like a personal offense.
Stepping outside or staying out of a group is not an insult.
That also applies to anyone wearing a mask. Again, I want to see
comfort, and that means masks for a lot of people. I’ve grown
attached to mine. I like being able to hide my expressions, and
nobody can judge me for mumbling to myself, or ask me what I’m
thinking about so hard. I promise you - it’s just my face.
What I really want to see at holiday gatherings this year is a sense
of shared comfort. If that means half the family still isn’t there,
then deal with it in therapy. If half the family is just at home,
then you can still see them through an Internet connection or call
them on the phone, and it will have to be enough. But if half the
family struggled with covid after last year’s gathering, then I hope
the turkey was worth it (assuming you could taste it. Then again, my
turkey never tastes like anything anyway).
Remember, we are literally living through mass trauma right now. So
just be kind, and, for once, follow the actual spirit of the
holidays. I keep my holiday spirit from Halloween, so if you’ll
excuse, I’m going to go let it out of its cage.
Wishing the best for you and
yours this year and every year,
Your Holiday Curmudgeon
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