A Christmas Eve Tale & Table Inspiration
Sharing a little story of how Christmas disappoints me every year, yet I still look forward to it.
As a young child, I loved Christmas so much. My mother had so many traditions that we routinely complained about at the time but I find myself longing for now as an adult. First she vaguely played along with the Santa story until I was maybe 8 or 9 then she started allowing me to come in her giant closet on Christmas Eve to sit on the floor with her and wrap all the presents using wrapping paper that she saved from years prior. She couldn’t stand buying wrapping paper only to tear presents open and trash it, so they were all reused. Of course I found this so annoying because we wanted to savagely rip everything open like kids did on TV.
On Christmas morning, we woke up to her playing records and badly singing along to the holiday music of Jim Reeves, Elvis, Johnny Cash, or Nat King Cole. We all got dressed up in our finest 1980s taffeta and polyester clothes and eagerly waited for our guests. The house would be packed by late morning with real aunts and uncles, fake aunts and uncles, cousins, and whatever holiday orphans she had invited. I enjoyed the loudness and chaos that promised opportunities to eavesdrop on adult debates, spontaneous dancing, epic meals to feed a giant tribe, and the festive vibe that meant adults were busy cackling at old stories retold to death, so we children could get away with doing anything we wanted. I looked forward to it every single year.
As our impatience and desires grew to rip open presents, she would then insist on taking one million photos of everyone. “Line up children,” she would shout while we groaned and rolled our eyes. “Next up all the girls, then all the boys,” would be her next order. “Children with grandma now! Then Auntie Evelyn.” And so she would go on until she had every combination and configuration of family sets that satisfied her.
Just when I thought I was going to die of not knowing what my presents would be, since she pre-wrapped those before our treasured closet wrapping sessions, she would announce it was time to open presents.
My Dad or Uncle Andrew would take each present, hold it up like Simba and call out who it was for. “To Ajiri, from Mommy.” He would pass it to me as I was forced to slowly unwrapped it, careful not to tear what could be recycled for the next year. The whole room was required to watch and then oooh and ahhh over each gift. And it was only then we moved on to the next present. It was a very very very slow process that drove me mad but brought me so much joy because it dragged out those moment. It was slow but somehow still chaotic, loud and fun…if that’s makes any sense. It’s as if she was forcing us to savor and appreciate this moment together. My friend’s families came downstairs in their jammies, ripped open presents from Santa then all immediately played with their new toys. Not at the Aki-Obamwonyi house. I loved it for as long as it lasted, which wasn’t long because that tradition died with my mother when I was twelve years old.
Then I absolutely hated Christmas. Hated it. There were no more traditions, no houses full of people and no one around who cared enough to drag everyone through any excitement and fuss of the holiday season. I hated Christmas until ten years ago when my little angel Noomi was born. For her first Christmas, at 9 months old, I knew that I wanted to turn into my mother and bring back Cynthia’s traditions of making a lovely torturous fuss over it all. I felt the spark and knew it was just in me to do it!
BUTTTTT…one little monkey wrench in my plan has been that I live in France where there are already many French traditions. Oh and I married a Swiss-German guy and he and his mother have their own traditions. And so the last ten years have been me trying to unsuccessfully recreate my mother’s version of Christmas while juggling other cultures. My husband doesn’t have any family besides his mother, who I butt heads with over how she wants things to be for her son and grandchildren for the holidays. And I live so far from my brothers, so my dreams of a chaotic busy family gathering aren’t happening anytime soon. And most expat and French friends scatter like flys days before Christmas so I just have my little family and my husband’s mother. I feel like I take turns with my Mother-in-law (MIL) throwing emotional child-like tantrums about how things should go. She has her ways and I deeply desire to get back to my pre-twelve year old joy.
I had to learn to compromise, which hasn’t been easy. My MIL wanted to open every present on Christmas Eve with a real tree full of actual candles as they do in Switzerland. Also they only get the tree on Christmas Eve and not the evening of Thanksgiving like my mother. I finally agreed on one present and the rest on Christmas morning, which I insist are slowly opened by each person while we all stare on and appreciate each other’s gift. I like things loud and want to invite strangers over, but she likes things quiet. I flat out refused their tree tradition because I didn’t want to burn down my apartment building. And finally she just refused to come to Paris anymore. I admit her decision is probably a combination of her feeling too old to travel and the frustrating struggle I put up to have everything go my way for Christmas.
The meal was also a tussle over traditions. I wanted a big roast and she wanted Swiss fondue chinoise. I remember how badly I complained and thought it so strange anyone would eat a chinese hot pot with sides of creamy sauces and pickled things. It just didn’t feel festive to me. Then we made a compromise. She would get Christmas Eve meal and I took Christmas Day. But somehow that seemed to not satisfy either of us who weren’t too keen to enjoy the other’s meal.
Ironically when she stopped coming, I started making Swiss fondue chinoise, with an Ajiri twist and have actually started to enjoy it. But as she no longer comes, we now go to her after celebrating at home. I am still trying to make traditions with my children leading up to Christmas day and then we drive to Switzerland and she takes over.
This is not how I wanted things to be but this is how it is. It’s always a challenge for me to let go of expectations of how I want things to be versus how they are because other people have desires and personalities.
Which leads me to my next Christmas tale.
I took Noomi to London for a quick 24 hour Mother-Daughter trip. In my head I saw this as another tradition we could start together. We went to a Christmas concert by Alexis Ffrench, strolled around the Christmas floor of Harrods, and then saw Matilda before jumping on the Eurostar back to Paris. At times my little darling got on my absolute nerves. She kept asking to buy everything in sight then getting mad when I would refuse her endless requests. Wasn’t skipping school and going to London enough for this little ten year old?!? Sometimes she would walk off into shops or other times she walked too slowly and had zero sense of time. She loved the concert but fidgeted a few too many times in her seat complaining the guy in front of her was blocking her view. I lost my patience with more times than I care to admit.
Then the most magical moment happened…
In taxi line at Gare du Nord on the way home, she looked up at me and said, “Mommy, thank you for taking me on this trip. I hope we can still go on trips like this when I am older. I am sorry that I was difficult sometimes. I understand if you don’t want to travel with me anymore because I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
I looked down into my sweet child’s eyes and immediately felt horrible for my lack of patience with a tween who of course has desires and is curious about the world. I responded to her, “I love you Noomi. And yes sometimes it wasn’t easy for me, but sometimes I am grumpy and have to learn patience with you. When I take you somewhere, I get excited and want you to appreciate it. Then I get a bit frustrated when you’re asking me to buy things left and right. We both have to work on it. It doesn’t mean we’re never going to go on a trip again, it just means we keep trying and we keep communicating with each other like we are doing now.”
Then after about 3 to 5 minutes, the stranger in front of us, who I assumed was French, took of her headphones and said to us in a British accent, “I am sorry for eavesdropping but I just want to say I am touched by your conversation. No one ever explained anything to me that way or spoke to me like that when I was a child.”
I responded, “Me neither. Thank you and Merry Christmas.” Then I gulped and held back a flood of tears.
I suppose there is no big happy ending or giant morals to either of my Christmas tales. However I realize how I have such high expectations of being endlessly happy during the holidays. I want to feel healed somehow of the grief and sadness that the holidays also bring me. I also shove those expectations onto the people around me to behave, perform, and conform to what I need. In the midst of that I can forget how to find and embrace moments of joy even though there are plenty of possibilities around me. I will continue miserably enduring the rough and tumble of the relationship with my MIL and culture clashes while seeking joy in little moments every day.
For example, maybe I will get up early and go sit at a cafe and read before a long day with her. Or even bust out my book and enjoy reading it from her living room, while I stare at the beautiful mountains from her living room, blissfully unable to understand the language being spoken around me. Maybe my joy will be taking a cat nap while my kids are playing with their grandmother. Who knows but as instead of focusing on my frustration with having Christmas exactly as I want it, I will focus on finding moments of joy to push me through the season. And I found joy just holding my daughter’s hand around town while she still wants to do that, watching her little smile during a concert full of adults, and taking a mid-week trip. We all have to remember that embracing and seeking joy is a practice, especially in the midst of challenging times.
Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas friends. I hope these tables I styled bring you a little table inspo if you aren’t sure what to do yet. And may you focus on finding joy in the next few days at home with family or alone.
Bisous xx, Ajiri
Awe, sis. I loved this. It made me laugh and feel a little tightness in my throat. I love you and miss you this Christmas break. I’m grateful I’ll see you next month! 🙏😁♥️
Little wise one that Noomi 🥹🥹