FROM THE NORM TO THE MARGIN

Xmas in Bali.

Today I spend many hours writing Mrs. Claus letters to each of my five children and my grandson telling them how proud I am of them and how much I love them.

It's a tradition I started when my kids were little. I chose the most beautiful cards I could find. I would write a personalised message. On the morning of the twenty-fifth of December, they would look in their stocking after unwrapping their presents and read it silently, then (for the girls at least) keep this note preciously in their treasure box.

The years and the distance do not prevent me from wanting to perpetuate this moment which for me is carrying the Christmas spirit and I hope a little for them too.

As I said before, I'm not much of a caller or a message person, so at least I stick to that. And I think they would be disappointed if there was no note.  

As I was writing the messages, which I wanted to send to my loves, I thought about the past year and all they had achieved. All the obstacles they had faced and overcome. I realized that this would be the first holiday without my second and fourth. At fifty-two I celebrated my first Christmas without all my children. I was sad not to be with them and at the same time happy that they were where they wanted to be.

I think back to those parties since we left home. The first two were in Cayeux in a residence with a swimming pool. My family came along knowing that we were afraid to be in our home region for the occasion and to see our torturer. The following year we had a rental near my parents and we took turns with part of the family (thanks Covid!). Two years ago, with the holiday vouchers I had just received, my three youngest daughters and I had treated ourselves to a stay in a Center Park.

Last year I wanted to spend the holidays with my daughters. The two older ones had to split their time between their family and their boyfriend's family (this is always complicated, especially if the two families live far from each other. I mean, even close together it's frustrating). So in the evening we did the evening with my last three and the next day at lunchtime with the smallest and the oldest accompanied by her boyfriend. It felt really weird. I'm getting older and I have to get used to it just like my parents did before me. I'm not going to blackmail my offspring emotionally. If my children come to see me it's because they want to, not because it's a habit or an obligation. 

Each time we made sure to live the magic of Christmas through the cooking we did together, the decorations, the improvised Christmas tree, the board games, the fire in the fireplace, the gifts chosen or made with the greatest care.

This year in Bali I want to do the same. We don't have a decorated tree, I found a small gingerbread tree in an expat shop. We can't give presents to everyone, I have made transfers and sent Christmas letters by mail (my dad will print for my children who are with him). I couldn't find a card for my two cuddly toys who will be with me, so I also sent them by email. Be careful when I say that I wrote an email, I have to tell you that the letter is attached and I put all my heart into it to insert a nice picture and put a font that looks as much like handwriting as possible. Ah well, when I tell you that I put all my heart into it. I know that my daughters in France are well taken care of so it'll be fine. 

I can't think too much about it and that's going to do it. I make choices that I have to live with. It's been three years since I last spent the festive season with my son, so it's comforting. We have to get together to prepare the meal and give the day a Christmas feel. I reserve the appropriate songs for my two children. They always grumble at the beginning but then they sing too.

It's decided, it will be a nice Christmas.