Home For Christmas

I am not, technically, home for Christmas. Except that, technically, I kind of am. So where does that leave us?

We're spending this Christmas in London, which is our home for now. When we moved here, we decided that staying put for Christmas made sense, based on cost and time and a budget for vacation days and all the other things that come with being a sensible adult. 

In all the years I've spent traveling, this is only the second time I haven't made it back to my Nevada home for Christmas. Sensible and adult decision or not, I miss the holiday season with family as much now as I did then. And yet, this year has very little in common with that year. Christmas in Afghanistan was very different (which I wrote about in detail back then, so check out that post if you want to know more!); Christmas in London is a lot like Christmas in the States. The streets and shops are dressed out for the season, and the same Christmas carols play everywhere you turn. The seasonal aisles at the grocery store look about the same, and while the sales advertise prices in a different currency, the implicit pressure to buy the perfect gift seems universal.

There are little differences, of course. We learned this when we tried to find lemon jello to make a jello salad for a holiday party and when we bought cards that say 'Happy Christmas.' I'm learning how to substitute for ingredients that can't be bought here, and I can't tell you how many mince pies we've been served in the last month.

Building a home in a new place, though, isn't about buying toffee ingredients or splurging on a baby Christmas tree for the living room of your tiny apartment. Any newly married couple goes through the same process; how do we meld our traditions and our families and our expectations into one holiday to share? In that sense, we're lucky. This year, there's just us. Some gatherings with friends and classmates, but mostly just the two of us, building new traditions together.

Last month, we had a group of friends over to celebrate Thanksgiving. We cooked a turkey and all the fixings, and our traditional American dinner was enjoyed by friends from the UK, China, India, Poland, Brazil, and Denmark. We ate and talked and laughed and ate some more, and it was a wonderful holiday.  

This is the kind of tradition I'm so excited to be starting, and it's the kind that will last no matter where we call home. I've always loved the story of Christmas, not just because of the celebration of Jesus' birth but also because of those who were celebrating at that first Christmas. It wasn't just Jesus' family; it was also strangers and travelers who became family. Family is a huge part of Christmas for me, but even when we're far away, Skype and email and group chats mean we get to share their holiday. At the same time, we get to share our Christmas with friends here, with strangers or friends of friends that we don't know well, with travelers who also don't have a big family gathering to attend. That's the thing about being an expat; you learn to make a family of those around you, to make traditions wherever you are.

That feels like a lovely way to start our life as a newly married couple. Honoring our traditions with Christmas Mass and homemade toffee and stuffing each other's stockings, but also being open to new traditions. Celebrating with family from afar, but also opening our home to celebrate here with anyone and everyone who wants to come. Relishing our Nevada home even as we make London feel like home for now.

I am home for Christmas.