Why do you cook the turkey like that?!

Christmas dinner
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There was this young woman who was living with her partner and she decided that for their first Christmas together, she wanted to cook Christmas dinner the way her mother taught her. Partner, delighted, sat back and let her do the work and off she set, delighted with herself.

She got the turkey, placed it on the worktop and started to cut it sideways across the middle, separating the crown from the limbs. Partner watches on, enthralled, having never seen this done before.

She placed the two halves on separate trays for roasting and preheated the top and bottom ovens, even though there was plenty of room in the bottom for both bird and the yummy veg that would surely follow.

“Why did you slice the turkey like that?”

She stopped short. She turned and said “Well, because that’s how it’s done”.

“Really? Where?” Asked the (brave) partner.

“Yes really! God!” She’s getting annoyed now. Feels a bit criticised. But … also starting to wonder why… She thinks about it, makes an excuse to leave the room and calls her mother.

“Why do you slice the turkey across like that at Christmas?” she asked. “You never do that with chickens”.

“Well”, says the mother, “because, erm… that’s how it’s done! I mean, it’s always done like that!” The daughter asks her if she ever saw anyone else do that? Mother thinks of all the TV chefs she follows, the Instagram chefs, her friends….hmmmm… it is a bit odd maybe…

“I’ll call granny” she says. So call calls her mother and asks her “Why do we cut off the turkey crown and roast it separately at Christmas but cook chicken whole?”

Granny said “Y’know I often wondered myself why you do that dear! Why do you think I might know?” Well, this is a little frustrating mom is thinking. “Because that’s how you taught me to do it!!!” she said, a little exasperated now, to be honest.

Granny laughs gently and says,

” Ok…well, the only reason I did it that way is because the turkey had to be huge to feed us all, and the main oven I had was just too small to accommodate it, so I improvised!

But you have always had a better oven. So, I have often wondered why you do it that way…

My own mother told me that story – it’s got depth hasn’t it?!

Happy Christmas again guys, see you on the other side!

My Friends’ Christmas tree

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There’s a lot of talk of tradition at Christmas isn’t there?

The food, the shopping, the gifts, the visiting, the dreaded relatives…

But despite tradition, things always change. Usually without our consent. And some of those changes can be so jarring.

A friend recently asked me if I’d write a piece about loss and bereavement for Christmas. And something weird happened to me when he said it. I felt a block. I reflected on it on and off the past few weeks, wondering had my brain actually finally been emptied of words? Or worse, was it broken? Why wasn’t I flinging open my laptop to release the flow of unedited thoughts as I normally do?

Was I too sad myself? Did I simply not want to talk about death anymore? Did I just not want to write anything for public consumption anymore? (And in truth, nothing like a nasty dose of online bullying to silence one – albeit, it turns out, temporarily… but ya, that was definitely part of it)

It somehow felt just, too, big. Not too sad, just too big.

Plus, I’ve written about loss at this time of year before. About how Christmas has this uncanny way of shining a big spotlight on our loss-wounds. It pokes at them, relentless, reminding us of how painful it still is… how awful, even traumatic it can feel. Despite the healing we experience, and the caring we receive, and even the gorgeous hope that can follow.

And it does all this torturous stuff while playing cheery carols and sleighbells and offering us lovely tasty things to eat NOM and YUM – what a headwreck!! (note to self AGAIN, avoid Brown Thomas from Halloween onwards!)

I was thinking about this again (still?) as we drove to visit friends this evening. They have each other, two grown sons, and a beautiful Christmas tree – and of course they’re lucky enough to have us in their lives too!

(We are so so lucky to have them 🙂 )

We were admiring their tree and all the different decorations and better, the stories attached to each one. This will resonate with a lot of people I think – the stories, the big meanings we attach to small items. It’s a beautiful thing isn’t it? It turns a Christmas tree into a unique story of a family’s life – the gains, the losses, the giggles and celebrations. And the ritual of honouring all of it, every year.

My friend told me a beautiful story without realising it, as is often the case with her actually. Her younger son came home and she suggested he decorate the tree before his brother came home so that he (the elder) wouldn’t feel he had to do it – having never really enjoyed it – and so he did. And it’s stunning – I mean , I even look at that reindeer (near top right) OMGerrrrd so cute!

But then the elder came home and saw the tree all decorated – lights up, star up, everything perfect and visible…and finished.

Yep, you maybe guessed it, he was not happy.

Why did they do this without him? Why wasn’t his favourite decoration more readily visible? He’d have put it somewhere else! (Wait whuuut? He had a favourite decoration??) And, just, well, WHY?!

And I thought wow. How gorgeous is this. This family tradition that he didn’t want any part of – not in a nasty way, just simply uninterested – had become an important part of his Christmas ritual. It had seeped into him, unbeknownst to himself.

And woven into his unconscious fabric of tradition, when unintentionally taken from him, it really hurt. He missed it. It was more important than any of them realised. These boys are no longer grumpy, bored, teens. They are men that want to celebrate their sense of belonging to this beautiful family by being part of the symbolism that is unique to their Christmas. They have integrated their child selves, with their cute little cards and childish drawings (that reindeer again lads…), with their older selves.

And now they have come home for Christmas. They know that they will be parented again here, and always. That their younger and older selves and all ages and versions in between have been seen and noticed and remembered and cherished, and are symbolised on that tree. The wonky angels and the misspelled cards are priceless treasures on a living time machine. The pure love in their parents eyes as they excitedly showed us the handwritten messages from their 5 and 6 year olds…

They are lucky.

I know not all of us can, or want to come home for Christmas. But tradition and ritual is important to us. It can sneak up and wallop us in the heart if it’s missing. And if it is missing, what can we do? Well, maybe make a new one.

Do you want to make a new one? Do you maybe even need to?

After all, each family tradition we have was once something new that someone tried once, and it stuck. (Which reminds me of another story I want to tell ye maybe tomorrow now that my writer’s block has been cured). It stuck because it meant something, and we all strive to make meaning.

Maybe these 6 foot boymen children of our friends will maybe one day have their tree and their own disinterested bored kids. And maybe they’ll be sad that these kids don’t see them or appreciate them or care for their traditions and then suddenly, maybe, one of them will come home and want to adjust the positioning of their favourite wonky decoration. And the cycle will close and open again, the same, but changed. That’s life, and it’s just lovely to think about.

Happy Christmas to you all xx

It’s a weird one!

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Usually at this time of year I’m writing posts like “how to survive the family at Christmas”. So this is weird. This whole year has been weird hasn’t it?

Weird, strange, difficult, scary, heartbreaking, lonely, interesting. Quite a lot to pack into to a 9 month long existential crisis. It’s been a a prison, an escape, a torture, an opportunity, a learning, an eye opener, a mind opener, a mind closer…

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Separated and Dreading Christmas?

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Not everyone loves this time of year.

Maybe you have a friend or family member who is dreading it. Maybe you are dreading it.

Maybe you, like a lot of people, are facing into Christmas as a separated parent. How can you be sparkly and happy when you feel like you’re on the floor, struggling to find order in the debris of a broken relationship? Everything around us tells us that family is king, happiness rules and life is one big gift-wrapped bundle of glittery joy! It’s a cheerfest – that’s for sure! And really, MUST they keep playing Mariah Carey???

When Christmas is difficult
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