Nollaig Shona!

"May peace and plenty be the first to lift the latch on your door, and happiness be guided to your home by the candle of Chirstmas."

An old Irish proverb.

 It’s that time of the year again, and as this time approaches, my heart aches for home.  In my early years as an expat, it was almost unbearable.  It was pre- facebook, pre-skype, and even pre-email.  I would call my home in Oregon to hear everyone celebrating on the other side of the phone line, the other side of the world.  One by one, my mother, brother, sisters, nieces and nephews would take their turn on the phone to wish me a “Merry Christmas, wish you were here, we miss you”.  This is the price one pays when they decide to live clear across the world.

I've only been home twice for Christmas since I got married and moved to Kerry nearly 20 years ago.  Once, I traveled on my own with my two young boys, flying clear across the Atlantic and then the whole of the United States.  My eldest was a busy 4 year old, and my baby was 10 months old and crawling all over the place!  I don’t know what I would have done without the help of the lovely Aer Lingus flight attendants, who would scoop my little man up into their arms and dance him around the plane.  The second time was in 2005, but unfortunately it was a sad occasion.  It was the year I lost my eldest sister to a brain tumor.  My family went through the motions of what was a very poignant Christmas.

After my children came along, Christmas in Ireland became a little more bearable. With each passing year, every advent sweet eaten and advent candle lit brought excitement to the household.  Though I was still missing the big family gathering back home, I enjoyed watching my children’s delight as they would open their gifts from Santa.  We would then go to the village for mass, which would be full of families with squirming children who were impatient for mass to end so that they could go back home to play with their new toys.   My children are almost grown now, but the routine remains the same.  When the Christmas mass has ended, it is the tradition to go to the cemetery to visit the graves of loved ones, and then home to prepare the dinner which is always ready later in the afternoon.  But the dinner is only for ourselves.  No grand parents, aunts, uncles or cousins to celebrate with us.  I find it very quiet but do my best to keep a festive spirit. 

As much as I may complain about living so far from a city, living in a small, rural area can be magical during the holidays. Every year the Parish gathers to watch the Christmas lights being switched on while singing carols and drinking hot chocolate, and the town is busy every weekend with staff parties and dinners for different clubs and associations.  We all look forward to the festivities, and baby sitters and taxi drivers are kept busy through the entire holiday season.  As far back as early November, many would have started making fruit cakes, which seemingly require a few weeks in the making.  Ladies of an older generation will be seen with shopping trollies full of flour, sugar, and dried fruit.  The traditional recipe requires that the cook “feeds” the cake mix with whiskey every few days.  Between a regular feeding and marzipan icing, it sounds a little too complicated for me.  I generally bake up some cookies and drink the whiskey myself!

Over here, Christmas does not end with Christmas day. St Stephen's day is the day after and is another holiday. It is a day when most people to do their visiting.  Some go shooting, and the horse people join a hunt with hounds and all. (I’d like to make clear that no fox is harmed. It’s a ride around the countryside that ends at the pub.)  For me,  I love it as much as Christmas, because it is my day to relax, play games with the kids, and eat leftovers.  I enjoy watching the line up of Christmas movies and secretly hope no one turns up for a visit.  I think it should be a tradition everywhere, because it gives a person an extra day to relax after all the hard work and festivities before returning to work.

And does it end there?  Not really.  Of course we have our New Year’s celebrations like everyone else, and then nearly a week later on the 6^th of January is Epiphany. In rural Ireland we celebrate it as Little Christmas or Ladies’ Christmas. It is a normal working day for most, but in the evening groups of ladies’ get together and go out for a dinner.  It’s our way of treating ourselves for all the hard work we did during Christmas.

I may be a homesick Yankee expat, but there are some traditions here I would certainly miss if I were to move back Stateside. 

For now, I'll wish you all... 

Nollaig Shona

Merry Christmas

Catherine Hughes Teahan