No, not the movie. I mean literally.
Typing this blog.
On Christmas Day 2025.
I've never had nowhere to be but with family in all the past 59 Christmases of my life. And I find myself reflecting on what Christmas meant for me over the long stretch of one's lifetime.
As a typical Filipino kid it was magical. Seasonal decor, seasonal music, and religious traditions all coming to a crescendo of feasting and gift giving. For a kid it was mostly the eating and the receiving, but nevertheless, Hallelujah! Our saviour was born!
Later on, as we cross into puberty, the early dawn mass turned into a convenient opportunity to check out one's crush. Maybe put some product on your hair, a favourite t-shirt or pendant, and perhaps if one was bold enough, start a conversation with a totally timely Christmas greeting. The Christmas haul at this age has moved from toys to fashion. The problem arises when your favourite Tita's idea of what would look great on you and what you think is going to impress the opposite sex are non-intersecting circles of a Venn diagram.
Christmas caroling was a tradition I also experienced. My friends and I would, on a whim, decide to go house to house and sing Christmas carols until someone gives us a few coins so we can move on and entertain the next house. We would stop once we had enough money to cover a round of snacks.
As a young man with emerging means, I too wanted to give Christmas gifts, of course starting with family. For me it was proof that I had "grown up" and a grown man was expected to give more than receive. Just giving to my family was a net zero as we just exchanged presents. To man up I widened my circle of gift giving, by adding to my Christmas list the people who were special to me: friends, mentors, colleagues, some romantic possibilities and business partners.
It was at this point that I felt a transactional aspect to Christmas. Some people made it to my list when I received a present from them. It would be mean not to reciprocate. Some people dropped of the list due to natural causes: former colleagues, former lovers, or someone moves to another country. The Christmas list begun as a way to flex, it was morphing into a chore.
Becoming a parent brought a refreshing touch up to my sadly tarnished spirit of Christmas joy. It was the 90s and we had just moved to Australia. We were a young professional couple with disposable income. We could buy our only daughter anything short of an actual pony. Not to compare with how over-the-top this century's competitive Christmas decorations have become, but for that one time we decorated our tree with all the trimmings we wish we had and then layered more on top of that.
My friend Jojo brought his family to Australia a couple of years after us. We were the closest thing to family we had here. We became family and we celebrated every Noche Buena together since. Our daughters grew up together like siblings nobody asked for. We're proud of them all.
Christmas shopping was a retail orgy we all participated in. At first it was all fun and exhilarating to work our way down that Christmas list. Oh look what I found! This would be perfect for ___. And the price is under budget too. As the number of shopping days before Christmas count down, the selection criteria for thoughtful gifts start to widen out, eventually coming down to I ran out of time and/or budget so this is your present. Merry Christmas.
That's when we begun to accumulate unwanted presents -which we henceforth euphemistically refer to as surplus. Now what are we gonna do with all this surplus? Pass it to someone else? On your Christmas list? Re-gifting was a quiet little trend we all did. It wasn't perfect, there's a risk of committing a faux pas by accidentally re-gifting it back to the original donor next Christmas.
Life goes on. Marriages end. New partnerships and new families are created. Our daughter is now an adult. My new partner and I have two young children to raise. Now, my Christmas eve traditions have to be shared with my children's Uruguayan family. For several Christmases, we would do half in Smithfield, then bundle the kids and their presents in the car and drive to Carlingford for the other half. There was probably over sixty people I shared Christmas eve with across both gatherings.
There was even a couple of years when we had a costume theme for Noche Buena. It was fun until it was a struggle to figure out what costume to wear and it was now an unwelcome extra chore. So we just stopped.
Now having separated again, we simply took alternate turns with the kids. The simultaneous celebrations continue but the kids do Smithfield one year and then Carlingford the next. I admit missing Smithfield. This year they are with their mother.
But what do I usually do on actual Christmas day? Back in the Philippines, we would probably be visiting relatives and god-parents. In the 1990s, we used to go to Tita Gina's house for a very Aussie Christmas lunch with Mrs. Thomson. Last year I went to Kuya Eddie's house where other Pinoy families are welcome to celebrate as we used to in the old country. I could have gone there today.
Instead I am home alone.
I don't know if I'd make a habit of it, but I chose it.
Merry Christmas!
