The relativity of Christmas and the importance of New Year - how I ceberated the winter holidays
When I was young, Christmas was a non-factor to me. In Russia, a lot of what used to be the secular Christmas traditions got moved to New Years Eve back in the 1930s, when citizens of Soviet Union weren't allowed to celebrate the very Christian Christmas, but the more secular New Year was okay. By the time the restrictions started to relax during perestroyka, the New Year traditions were firmly entrenched, and Christmas became a purely religious holiday. It was something Christians did, but since, aside from Aunt Anya and her whole branch of the family, none of us were Christians, it wasn't something I ever cared about one way or the other.
Of course, in United States, a lot of what Russians would recognize as New Year traditions - the dinner, the gift-giving - was firmly part of Christmas even even if you aren't a bit religious. When everybody lived in the same place, we celebrated Christmas (mostly) American style, and did a more low-key New Year celebration. But once everybody started moving out... Getting me and my siblings together in one place for one day was complicated enough. Getting us together twice wasn't worth the trouble.
This year, annanov and her husband, John, celebrated Christmas with the later's family. This was something I knew for months, and my only concern was when I was going to be able to give them presents. I had mine saved since December 2015, when I bought a whole bunch of stuff during the going out of business sale at the Powell Books' University Village location. I could have mailed them, but not being able to give them in person didn't feel quite right.
To make a long story short, we decided to get together on December 27 to exchange gifts. For some reason, it didn't occur to me at first that my mom was also planning to a smaller version of the Christmas dinner, too. I was fine with it.
As the Christmas Eve came and went, I realized that it didn't really bother me that we weren't doing the Christmas thing on the actual Christmas Eve. There was a peculiar feeling of moving in a parallel universe, where businesses and eateries closed early, but it had nothing to do with me. I even wound up writing two articles - one on Christmas Eve, one on Christmas Day - which were due on the December 27, simply because I had free time and, well, I didn't see a good reason not to use it to get them out of the way. I imagine my editor thought it was weird, to have two articles show up in her inbox on the days when most people would take time off - which only reinforced the feeling of parallel worldness.
At the same time, it didn't feel that weird to do the post-Christmas mini-christmas two days after December 25. As we celebrated it, I realized that, on some level, I always thought of Christmas as New Years Eve that just happened to be held seven days early. Christmas Eve, in on itself, didn't mean all that much to me. I didn't grow up waiting for Santa Claus to show up with presents - I waited for Ded Moroz. It's not the day when we had a big dinner, when we gave postcards. It wasn't the day before we would go to Grandma Kima to celebrate her birthday. All of my nostalgic warm-and-fuzzies were associated with December 31 - not December 24.
So, really, doing it on December 27 isn't that much different from doing it on December 24. It certainly didn't feel any different. I had to do a bit of a mental readjustment to account for the fact that it was just a normal day for the rest of United States, but I had to do the same sort of thing every time Victory Day comes around, so it wasn't a big deal, either.
Now, New Years Eve itself... Even if we did most NYE things on Christmas, to me, the day still carried weight. Even though my family couldn't get together, I always felt that it should be celebrated, in some form or another, with family. Even if that family was just vladiatorr. I knew that he was going to be working through the night, and I was already planning to stop by the bar where he works and celebrate it with him, just like I did last year.
After yesterday's unpleasant surprise, part of me wanted to simply lay down and sleep until morning. But I thought better of it. It didn't feel right not to mark the end of the year. And it didn't feel right to have Vlad celebrate New Year alone.
(Sure, he had friends celebrating with him, but he wouldn't have anyone from his family and that, like I said, just felt wrong).
Vlad was pretty busy, but we still managed to toast to the end of the year together. And, unlike last time, we were able to drink in Grandma Kima's memory. I got to chat with Anna over the phone for a bit. I asked Vlad beforehand if I should pass the phone to him if I managed to reach our sister, but he said he was too busy. He said 'no', since he didn't think he could get away. Sadly, he actually did manage, for a bit - but, by that point, Anna already hung up, and I was talking to cosmicriver. I was tempted to try to call Anna back, but I figured that, by that point, Vlad might already be called away, and...
I am glad I followed through with my original plan. Even if Vlad was busy taking orders and making cocktails most of the time, only tearing himself away from work for few short bursts, I'm glad I got to spend time with him. And... while Grandma Kima's death will always cast a shadow over her birthday, it's not as painful as it used to be. Which is probably for the best. Because, while I think she would've happy to know we kept her in mind, she wouldn't want me to be sad on her account, either. And she would want us to enjoy ourselves.
So, as always, С Новым Годом и С Днём Рождения, Бабушка Кима.
No matter what day the celebrations may actually fall on.
Of course, in United States, a lot of what Russians would recognize as New Year traditions - the dinner, the gift-giving - was firmly part of Christmas even even if you aren't a bit religious. When everybody lived in the same place, we celebrated Christmas (mostly) American style, and did a more low-key New Year celebration. But once everybody started moving out... Getting me and my siblings together in one place for one day was complicated enough. Getting us together twice wasn't worth the trouble.
This year, annanov and her husband, John, celebrated Christmas with the later's family. This was something I knew for months, and my only concern was when I was going to be able to give them presents. I had mine saved since December 2015, when I bought a whole bunch of stuff during the going out of business sale at the Powell Books' University Village location. I could have mailed them, but not being able to give them in person didn't feel quite right.
To make a long story short, we decided to get together on December 27 to exchange gifts. For some reason, it didn't occur to me at first that my mom was also planning to a smaller version of the Christmas dinner, too. I was fine with it.
As the Christmas Eve came and went, I realized that it didn't really bother me that we weren't doing the Christmas thing on the actual Christmas Eve. There was a peculiar feeling of moving in a parallel universe, where businesses and eateries closed early, but it had nothing to do with me. I even wound up writing two articles - one on Christmas Eve, one on Christmas Day - which were due on the December 27, simply because I had free time and, well, I didn't see a good reason not to use it to get them out of the way. I imagine my editor thought it was weird, to have two articles show up in her inbox on the days when most people would take time off - which only reinforced the feeling of parallel worldness.
At the same time, it didn't feel that weird to do the post-Christmas mini-christmas two days after December 25. As we celebrated it, I realized that, on some level, I always thought of Christmas as New Years Eve that just happened to be held seven days early. Christmas Eve, in on itself, didn't mean all that much to me. I didn't grow up waiting for Santa Claus to show up with presents - I waited for Ded Moroz. It's not the day when we had a big dinner, when we gave postcards. It wasn't the day before we would go to Grandma Kima to celebrate her birthday. All of my nostalgic warm-and-fuzzies were associated with December 31 - not December 24.
So, really, doing it on December 27 isn't that much different from doing it on December 24. It certainly didn't feel any different. I had to do a bit of a mental readjustment to account for the fact that it was just a normal day for the rest of United States, but I had to do the same sort of thing every time Victory Day comes around, so it wasn't a big deal, either.
Now, New Years Eve itself... Even if we did most NYE things on Christmas, to me, the day still carried weight. Even though my family couldn't get together, I always felt that it should be celebrated, in some form or another, with family. Even if that family was just vladiatorr. I knew that he was going to be working through the night, and I was already planning to stop by the bar where he works and celebrate it with him, just like I did last year.
After yesterday's unpleasant surprise, part of me wanted to simply lay down and sleep until morning. But I thought better of it. It didn't feel right not to mark the end of the year. And it didn't feel right to have Vlad celebrate New Year alone.
(Sure, he had friends celebrating with him, but he wouldn't have anyone from his family and that, like I said, just felt wrong).
Vlad was pretty busy, but we still managed to toast to the end of the year together. And, unlike last time, we were able to drink in Grandma Kima's memory. I got to chat with Anna over the phone for a bit. I asked Vlad beforehand if I should pass the phone to him if I managed to reach our sister, but he said he was too busy. He said 'no', since he didn't think he could get away. Sadly, he actually did manage, for a bit - but, by that point, Anna already hung up, and I was talking to cosmicriver. I was tempted to try to call Anna back, but I figured that, by that point, Vlad might already be called away, and...
I am glad I followed through with my original plan. Even if Vlad was busy taking orders and making cocktails most of the time, only tearing himself away from work for few short bursts, I'm glad I got to spend time with him. And... while Grandma Kima's death will always cast a shadow over her birthday, it's not as painful as it used to be. Which is probably for the best. Because, while I think she would've happy to know we kept her in mind, she wouldn't want me to be sad on her account, either. And she would want us to enjoy ourselves.
So, as always, С Новым Годом и С Днём Рождения, Бабушка Кима.
No matter what day the celebrations may actually fall on.