Let's make this the last holiday season missed.

DECEMBER 2020 COULD HAVE BEEN ONE FOR THE BOOKS. BUT HISTORY HAD OTHER PLANS

December is, for our family, one of the happiest months. And this year could have been happier than most.

My family includes Christians and Jews, and we have both Christmas and Hanukkah this December. We have four birthdays. We have a New Year's Eve tradition of feasting and games (and maybe a bit of drinking), and this year was going to be particularly fun, because the kids are getting old enough that they can party all the way to midnight.

Best of all, if all goes well, God willing, sometime in the next few weeks or even days, I'll have a new niece or nephew.

December 2020, in other words, could have been one for the books. But history had other plans.

The birthdays have been marked either via Zoom or in bitter, foot-stomping cold, waving to loved ones from lawns. No Hanukkah parties this year (so no latkes, alas), and Christmas will be just the four of us (plus one presumably very confused puppy). New Year's will be the same small group having yet another quiet night in. As for the upcoming new niece or nephew, I'm just hoping the delivery goes as smoothly as possible, because the hospitals are filling up with COVID patients fast.

I view all this stoically, even philosophically. We're doing better than most in these strange times, mainly because my wife and I both have remained fully employed throughout. We've lost no one to this virus, and even our relatively lousy December this year is, by any reasonably objective historical standard, good.

But this season is going to be hard on everyone, and that includes people far less able to absorb the financial and emotional blows of 2020. In households where one or both parents has lost a job due to either lockdown regulations or the pandemic's crushing economic impact, there will be fewer presents under the tree for kids.

Many families, of course, may be missing out on the one chance they have each year to gather together, share old memories and make new ones. Some essential workers will probably avoid their families, either because of local public-health orders or their own best judgment, to avoid making anyone sick.

And, alas, for some people, this sad, lonely Christmas, apart from friends and family, will be their last. One of the cruellest aspects of COVID-19 is how its victims often die alone, separated from their loved ones, because it's too dangerous to them (and hospital staff ) to let them be in the room. But not all isolation deaths occur in hospitals. Almost every family must have someone they may suspect they will never see again, because it won't be safe to gather before their time on this earth comes to an end.

By generational standards, we're still doing well. It wasn't that long ago that Christmases passed while millions of young men shivered in trenches or U.S. battleships smouldered in Hawaii. My ancestors had to fight actual battles; I just have to stay home and skip the traditional year-end game of tipsy Trivial Pursuit. But the sadness is real, and shared by so many. This isn't the worst Christmas ever, not even close, but it's the worst most of us have known.

It's important to remember that help is on the way. The vaccines are coming, and seem to be safe and effective. Every politician in this country is highly motivated to make sure those jabs get into every willing arm as rapidly as possible. Losing Christmas, Hanukkah and New Year's is a tough blow, but every time I hear a report that a majority of Canadians will be vaccinated by September, all I can think is that that's after the summer. In a country that's frozen for a third of the year or more, losing another summer might be the only thing worse than losing our normal Christmas traditions. Indeed, I confess that next summer has been my emotional happy place — all the events we're avoiding now, all the people we can't see, well, we'll see them then. When it's safe I'm going to drop a ridiculous amount of money on meat so I can barbecue it for all the friends and family I haven't seen in almost a year. They'll bring the beer and the sides, and their vaccination cards.

But that's still a long way away, and if we fall behind on vaccines, life may not be that kind of normal until 2022. So yes, I'll keep a stiff upper lip this December. We can write this one holiday season off. But let's make sure we never lose another. My new niece or nephew, God willing, will have an amazing first Christmas in 2021. There will be a lot to make up for.

VICTIMS OFTEN DIE ALONE, SEPARATED FROM THEIR LOVED ONES.