Silent holidays

I always wondered what “silent” meant in the well known Christmas carol. All nights are silent, everybody is sleeping so the silence is somehow normal.

Today, as I was making some preparation, I remembered my childhood’s Christmases. Going to my grandparents in the Christmas eve, my grandparents coming to us in Christmas day. All the preparations before Christmas: the cleaning of the house, the traditional dishes, the sweets. The stress and the tension in the house. My exhausted mother who was trying to get it all done. The arguing between my father and his father. The women trying to escalde the conflicts.

Do you think I remember a single dish, from a specific Christmas dinner? Or how clean the house was for a day or two? Or the presents? No, I don’t. All my memories are about emotions. About being.

I remember the music, the carols, the laughs. The feeling of belonging and the safety and warm of a home. The snow, the gingle bells, the white. The trees and their smell. The peace and calm of just being with my loved ones.

And today it “hit” me. The silent was just for that: silent holidays with peace and calm. With love. With no one arguing or someone complaining about a dish not being properly done. Or my mother asking me to put a nice dress on. And comb my hair.

I wish my kid will remember just that when she’ll grow up: the laughter and the joy and the good food we eat togheter, no matter if on the table are all the traditional dishes in the world or just one course. I come the silence and the peace will remain. And the love.

I hope that each one of you will have bleased and peaceful holidays and that you will make time to build memories with the loved ones. And to enjoy the silence.