I'm home. Well, I'm in my apartment in Toronto... and Megan and Matiu are in the next room; last nite we got back to Canada after spending time in NYC and Ithaca. My closest whanau are enjoying a long Christmas Eve celebration in Hamilton at my cousin's place. Earlier this evening we skyped with them, and they stood around holding bottles of beer, wearing short sleeves, grinning at the camera; here, it's -7 degrees and we don't even start Christmas Eve celebrations until tomorrow evening.
Ever since I moved to the States in 2000, living 'here' has always been about not being 'there.' Christmases are about time with various people, but also time without others. My first US Christmas was in Rochester with my friend Dorollo's family; my second was (oh no! I can't remember!); my third was supposed to be with Jolisa and Richard in Ithaca but I was snowed in and ate the chocolate mousse I'd prepared to share while watching back to back episodes of 'changing rooms' on TV; my fourth I was home on a research trip, and preparing my eventual return to NZ; and my fifth was with Anne & Michelle and their kids, who we'll join on Christmas Day this year, as well as Alyssa who spent Monday with us in NYC, and the lovely Johnson who'd travelled from Hawai'i to share Christmas before I moved home.
Tonite, about to embark on another 'away' Christmas, I am deeply grateful for Megan and Matiu sharing 'here' with me, and at the same time I find myself thinking about people in other places: family and friends, yes, but also people I don't know. Christchurch. West Papua. Attawapiskat. The Philippines. And so many more... Surely these places, these people, are the reason for the season.
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