With the sound track of "Love Actually" playing in the background, the tree trimmed, and presents ready to be wrapped, I sit here and realize my favourite day is almost here; Christmas Eve. I'm not sure exactly why I love "Eve" instead of "Day", but I do. I think it might stem back to when I was a kid and all the traditions that led up to that particular day.
Growing up, my parents, especially my mom, created magic and wonder around the holiday season. It started with decorating the tree, early in Dec. We'd buy a real tree and adorn it with all sorts of decorations from Christmas past. An assortment of colours, shapes, and home-made trinkets, which my sister and I made over our elementary school careers. Of course there are our favs- the ones that resemble our old neighbour boys, baby bulbs, and ancient ones my mom bought for one of her first Christmas' with my dad, when money certainly wasn't growing on trees, for .35 for the box. Of course we'd retell the same stories year after year, and Lesly and I would hide the same "A&W" bear in the tree to bug my mom.
Then the "parcels" would arrive from "Winterpeg", from both sides of the extended family. When my sister and I were old enough to use scissors we'd tear and rip the carefully wrapped parcels open and revel in the comforting scent of wrapping paper and cold newspaper, a strange scent, but one I'll never forget. Pretty presents, wrapped in bright paper and squished ribbon and bows, would then be carefully placed under the tree. Without fail, for as long as I could remember my dear aunt Joy would send two gifts exactly the same for my sister and I, purchased from Avon. One was always an ornament and the other some small trinket. We'd open them at the exact same time on Christmas morning. Vinarterta (an Icelandic Christmas cake) would also be in the parcel from my Amma, which I was always eager to start eating.
Finally on Christmas Eve, we'd all get dressed in our best and head to either my dad's brother's house for an Ukrainian feast or to my mom's sister's place for a fun, cocktail party. Both evenings had their own lure and sparkle. From borscht and perogies at The Freeman's to fancy cheeses and decadent dainties at the Smith/Ward's, I couldn't get enough. Loud conversations with family members, loving verbal jabs, and usually a game or two. Nothing compares to a night with family. Then it was off to bed when we got home, to wait for St. Nick to come visit.
Now as an adult I'm creating my own traditions based off of the ones I fondly reminisce of. Scott and I decorate our pre-lit tree, with ornaments both old and new, from far off places, and local treasures. We usually drink a nice bottle of wine and eat hors d'oeuvres, playing Christmas music. I now make Vinarterta with my mom, in the hopes to one day hand down this ancient recipe to my nieces. This year, for the very first time, I had to mail off a parcel to my sister's family so far away. It was filled with gifts, wrapped in brightly coloured paper, and I'm sure the ribbons and bows were squished. When I was putting it all together I wondered if my aunts felt the same joy, I did, when they were packing their parcels for my sister and I. I would have given anything to see my nieces little faces when they saw the package filled with gifts. And with only a few days before the big day, I'm the one, double checking the guest list, and menu for our annual Christmas Eve dinner at our own house, with Scott's mom and a few friends.
Share with me some of your family traditions....
