Christmas, the remixed edition, a time of reflection and gratitude

Once we get past COVID-19, we will be able to resume our traditions and start new ones

In what feels like an attempt to scare me to death instead of an initiative to put me in a holiday spirit, the city of Montreal decked Ste-catherine St. with Vegas-like decorations, including two terrifying giant toy soldiers that were part of a tableau in homage to the Nutcracker.

The display is an apt metaphor for the holiday season: it's a time when good intentions can easily give rise to malaise.

I like Christmas, but not as much as the many for whom fêting the birth of Jesus also becomes an Olympiad of poinsettias and meat pies: too much food, soirées galore, financially irresponsible spending and decorations that rival those of a department store.

This year will be a remixed edition, courtesy of public health guidelines. Intimate household huddles will replace the often-larger gatherings. Some will be enhanced by video conferences, connecting loved ones through the magic of electronic devices. So, rejoice! Technology will make it possible to still get awkward questions about your personal relationship statuses from that less than politically correct relative you deliberately keep at bay most of the year. Silver lining? One can always turn the volume off.

Christmas is also when I have to explain what a communications strategist does to distant family members whom I barely see or speak with, outside of 'tis the season. This time, I'll debut a new response and simply talk to them about writing for the Montreal Gazette. Nothing complex about being a columnist, right? Christ's birthday is also a time when — as evidenced by some of the gifts I get — I'm reminded that perhaps these distant relatives really know very little about me. “Oh, an apron! Thanks!” The reality is that I prefer eating to baking, ordering out to cooking.

But pardon my barely camouflaged cynicism and sarcasm. I wouldn't want to leave the wrong impression. The reality is that I know and appreciate how lucky I am. My immediate family and closest friends are healthy and live in such proximity that I don't need a holiday to see them. Once the current confinement is over, we'll be able to resume our traditions, and to start new ones. What we've realized during this pandemic, as a family — immediate and chosen — is that random weekdays or casual Saturdays are reason enough to gather for an elaborate meal with the fancy tableware and fancier wine and bubbly that usually have been reserved for specific celebrations.

And never more than this year has the holiday season's consumerism, wrapped gifts and all that jazz seemed more incongruous. I regret it took an ambient perfume of end-of-the-world for me to stop falling for the pressure that has too often been synonymous with Christmas. I've been reminded of what the holiday really stands for: unbridled togetherness that, alas, we must forgo until being close to each other no longer infringes on medical recommendations.

In their 1979 hit Wonderful Christmastime, Paul Mccartney and Wings sang: “The mood is right / The spirits up / We're here tonight / And that's enough,” lyrics I will use as instructions. I will make the mood right. Hello, Netflix. And I will keep the spirits up. I'm looking at you, Prosecco.

This holiday season will be one of continued reflection. It will be one of gratitude and one that will be filled with memories of those who cannot be with us.

I wrote to Santa Claus this year, as I have countless times since I was old enough to hold a pen. The euphoria when receiving his reply hasn't faded with time. But in lieu of a list, I sent Saint-nick a simple note: “I'm here, we're here — and that's enough. Thank you.”

To all, a safe and serene holiday season and a healthy new year. I've never meant this more.