Christmas used to mean bickering in my family. The chores, the frantic house cleaning and cooking, the rush of kisses from the in-laws after finally deciding who would be hosting. The constant car trips, the Christmas Mass standing up, the incessant carols blasting from every car radio – I could have done without it.
Then I moved to Spain.
I escape not only the bickering, but also the Christmas carols (I swear I know just the chorus of a handful of Spanish villancicos), the tree hunt looking for Nancy’s perfect Douglas Fir, the snow in Chicago. And somehow along the way, Christmas has become one of the best opportunities I have to see my family. Over the last six navidades that I’ve found myself in Spain, I’ve been fortunate enough to travel around Andalusia and Ireland, to Morocco, to The American Southwest. Gone are the holiday traditions we’ve had since forever, as my family and I create world travel as our Christmas treat to one another. I miss watching Morgan step gingerly into the snow when it’s higher than her head and treating Aunt Pat to lunch at the Walnut Room after seeing the windows at Field’s, but helping my family make travel as important to them as it is to me is what fuels the magic for me during the season.
To you and yours, Merry Christmas from me. I am forever grateful for my readers who seem like family more and more each day. Estés donde estés, enjoy this wonderful season, and don’t worry so much about your waistline (dude, Spain has lard cookies as its holiday indulgence, so you can’t be any worse off than me!). Wishing you all the very, very best for 2013 from Spain!