Emotional ghosts from holidays past
a sentimental daydream about growing up
Older by Lizzy McAlpine
The magic of the holidays
Holidays felt the most magical when all of our family would truly get together in one place, one day during the year. It was best when we could spend an entire week with each other - but Christmas Eve was a guaranteed touchpoint for all of us. It meant my parents getting to see their parents and all of their siblings. And it meant us kids getting to playing with all of the cousins, standing back to back to see how much we’ve grown, and getting to sleep like sardines in a can in my grandparents’ house.
Most of the time, it meant large Chinese homemade meals by my Po Po (grandma on my mom’s side), and squishing each other to fit onto the couch to eat since we’d run out of seats at the Adult Table. It’s still fresh in my mind: the smell of dumplings ripe in the air, and chopsticks scraping bowls or paper plates; the older cousins (me, being the oldest, along with Amanda, the second oldest) chasing down the little ones who’d take one bite of their food and run off giggling; and the joy on my family’s faces.
The holiday makers
Growing up has taught me that the holidays have always felt like the holidays because of the people who make them. My parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, and little babies - we’re all the moving parts. But, there’s always conductors to a symphony.
All the women in the family would engineer their passion for the holidays into decorating the house. My mom especially loved making traditions out of gifts in stockings and gift exchanges with the family, and cooking gorgeous roasts and vegetables for holiday dinners. My Auntie Mona facilitated us opening gifts in front of everyone, which I realize later was so that gift-givers could feel seen and appreciated. And Aunt Jodi and Uncle Rick would host everyone in Houston for Thanksgivings and the occasional Christmas.
My dad and uncles on both sides of my family took pictures of the fleeting moments, and drove us around to see Christmas lights. And my grandparents would sometimes sit still in the midst of the chaos, smiling at the feeling of noisy togetherness filling up the rooms in the house.
Looking back, I wonder what my grandparents were thinking. The American Dream is coming to America to make a living - but maybe the best part of the dream is feeling like they created a living, and that they were able to give that to us.
When we did gift exchanges on my dad’s side of the family, Dad would read ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and insert the words RIGHT and LEFT into the poem to indicate which direction we should pass gifts around in a circle.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all RIGHT through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a LEFT mouse;
The stockings were hung RIGHT by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be RIGHT there;
The children were LEFT nestled all snug RIGHT in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced RIGHT in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I LEFT in my cap,
Had just settled our brains RIGHT for a long winter's nap,
Everyone had an important place and role. As a kid, having constants like family gatherings around the holiday really sculpted my idea of who I was, and how life should be.
Secret Santa spy missions
Christmases during my childhood were busy another reason, and that reason is the annual Secret Santa missions. My cousin, Amanda and I would re-unite during Christmas in California, and we’d come up with a code name for our secret mission to spy on Santa. One year it was "Snickerdoodle" - something we wrote down on a notepad in case we forgot; and of course, no one would notice us just casually inserting “Snickerdoodle…” into daily conversations.
We’d plan to sleep underneath the Christmas tree together, so we could catch Santa when he came down the chimney. But, we’d end up falling asleep in mid-conversation, trying to talk the whole night through. That was secretly our favorite part, though.
Santa would write me back in neat calligraphy, like the crafted letters you’d imagine were written by candlelight. I felt reassured that it was him. Back at school, my classmates would be debating on how to tell if Santa was real. I volunteered my personal experience, “Well, of course he is. He writes me every year. I know it’s his handwriting.” My friend suddenly looked curiously at me and said, “That’s funny. Santa always types my letters.” It turns out my mom had taken lettering and calligraphy classes in college, and was still very good at it.
Getting older
I can really feel the passage of time when I watch the kids grow taller, and the aunts’ and uncles’ and grandparents’ hair grow grayer. I can feel it when houses we used to gather at aren’t the places we gather at anymore. And I can feel it when the rooms in the house aren’t as noisy as they were before.
For breakfasts in Houston, Uncle Rick would make Belgian waffles or chocolate chip pancakes, taking everyone’s order as they sleepily walked into the kitchen and sat at the long table facing the bright, sun-lit window. There was a realization that creeped up on us last year - that we wouldn’t have breakfasts at that same table in the Houston house anymore, since my uncle and aunt were moving to the east coast.
When grandparents pass away, or when the cousins move to different states, and when there are less chances to see each other, the holidays seem harder and harder to keep conducting and creating. It’s easy to think the spirit of the holidays fade a little each time some part of the original magic disappears - whatever that magic is to you. Maybe it was never “magic” in the first place - but just savoring our time together and not looking back.
New gatherings
When I was a kid, I felt like I’d live forever, and I also felt like all the family I knew would live forever too. That included grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, teachers, and even my friends. Being young makes it hard for you to think about things like that. And when true loss of loved ones happens, there’s an emptiness that washes over you that you can barely comprehend.
For example, during the holidays, it began to feel weird when my grandpa or grandma weren’t sitting at the head of the table anymore; and it felt even weirder when we’d stop gathering around a table during the holidays as often as we used to. Touchpoints turned into texts in group chats, wishing each other well and letting everyone know we’re thinking of each other.
It’s hard to fill in empty spaces, when the people who used to make them feel full are gone. Life becomes learning how to move on without them, yet finding ways to still keep them with you.
But, with empty spaces, comes new fullness filling them out. Lightning-in-a-bottle feelings during moments you get together with the most important people in your life never really go away. There’s still somehow small rushes of adrenaline and euphoria - when there’s no next year or last year, but just the very present moment you have.
What the emotional ghosts tell me
The Ghost of Christmas Past famously helps Scrooge (a mad hater of Christmas) begin his process of change. He shows Scrooge memories from his past, reminding him of the goodness and love for people that used to live in him. These memories melt Scrooge’s frozen heart, and he rethinks his way of living.
Much like this story, the emotional ghosts from holidays past remind me of all the memories I’ve been lucky to grow up with. I’m no Scrooge - but the constancy from grandparent figures, strong aunts and uncles, endless cousins, and sentimental parents who make time for family have brought warmth to my life, and continue to when I feel cold.
Sometimes, it feels like like the warmth of childhood memories are frozen in time. But, emotions from the Good Old Days come rushing back in moments you least expect them too, and they sit warmly in the palms of your hands, for as long as you’ll let them.
This year, as we move into Christmas 2024, I’m looking forward to holding that warmth in my hands, and huddling around it with people I love. I look forward to all the days ahead where that warmth will continue to follow us. And I’m looking forward to all the emotionally wrapped holiday seasons in the future that are still holding the door open for us, welcoming us back home.
Love how you captured how meaningful the holidays are to our families. So thankful we have many beautiful pics and memories🎄❤️