A simple Christmas
You are reading this column on the day of the Holy Innocents in the Catholic calendar. That is the 2013th anniversary of King Herod ordering the killing of all newborn baby boys hoping that in this horrendous process he gets rid of the son of God. Of course, it doesn’t work. Instead they have hundreds or maybe even thousands of slaughtered babies. That is such a horrible thought. How can a religion be so blood-soaked?
But what you probably don’t know is that my deadline is Wednesday, not Friday and certainly not Saturday, so that’s why sometimes I sound so outdated. In other words I am writing this on Christmas Day, after I have stripped the leftover turkey down to its bare bones sometimes using my bare hands and putting the aluminum roasting pan into a green biodegradable plastic bag to be thrown by my driver tomorrow, together with around four other green biodegradable plastic bags some of them containing turkey bones, discarded wrapping paper and another one containing paper plates and cups.
Yes, we celebrated Christmas with paper plates with matching cups with Happy Birthday designs because it is Jesus’ birthday and also because I hate having to wash plates by myself. I have no maids, you see. I am the sort of woman who prefers to do things by herself and when I decide to feed my family it takes more than one day.
Yesterday I washed the napkin rings and lay them out to dry. This morning I set the table laying out the placemats, paper plates with a monkey cartoon on the birthday design because that’s my Chinese horoscope. Just a touch of wit on the plates. Then I had to bring out the glasses and wash them because they haven’t been used in a long time and there was construction upstairs. I live in a condo, you see, and when there is construction upstairs, downstairs or even beside you, dust settles on everything. Then I put the napkins in their rings and set them on the paper plates. In the end when the table was set, it looked all right.
I saw three blue and white little saucers, left over from a tea set I had when I was small. I decided to put three little blue candles that I had just to pretty up the table and to ward off flies. I forgot to light them. Anyway, there were no flies.
At 10:20 a.m., just when I had finished dressing from a shower the turkey arrived. I had ordered it. Did you think I would cook a turkey? Once upon a time I did that zealously, when the children were small. But now even my grandchildren are old and I am the oldest, all my energy is saved for setting the table and clearing it up.
The turkey was delivered wrapped in clear cellophane and tied up with a bright red ribbon. I had ordered mashed potato with it. That was also wrapped in the same way as were the gravy and cranberry sauce. It was simple to unwrap. We were going to be nine people and it was a small turkey but good enough and delicious enough to feed all of us. Before lunch I reminded everyone that we had paper plates that would tend to get wavy and spill their food, so could they please be careful. I would have hated it if someone had spilt his or her food and I would have had to clean it up, something I knew how to do but didn’t want to do.
It is strange to get so old. You realize there isn’t a thing you have not done before. You know how to mop the floor, to wash the dirtiest pan, to clean a bathroom and leave it spotless, to carve a chicken or turkey, to cook steaks adventurously, to add vinegar to lechon and make it paksiw na lechon. What is it that I have not done before? Nothing, really, not even some of the grossest things I’ve done that I can’t write about. But when you get this old you know what you will do and what you don’t like to do if you can help it.
My Christmas tree was hung with earrings and necklaces that I failed to sell. No lights but never mind it sat on my coffee table and underneath were gifts for my children, the type that an old uninspired mother would get together for them. But where I may have failed at the gifts (my opinion), I am very grateful for the lunch. It was wonderful to have my children at my house, crowded around my long but narrow table, talking and laughing together with my grandchildren, having a wonderful time.
We felt like a family again. And that’s what Christmas is, right? To get together as families and to sit, share a meal and feel love in the simplest things.
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