our first christmas (a bit late)

Note: My goodness. I've been meaning to post this for weeks and regrettably kept putting it off. But here goes it, in February, for those who are still interested in hearing about Christmastime. 

Christmas, our very first married—and our first spent together!—was full of memory-making and festivities. I will remember this season as one bubbling with traditions, new and old. 

We tried doing the 12 dates of Christmas again this year, but our weeks got oddly short and busy and we didn't quite have time to tick off all the dates on our list. Oh, well! We know for next year we ought to prepare for them a bit better. I did quite enjoy our brunch date in the West End and exploring that sweet pocket of the city. One thing we did do, too, was weekly dates to 49th Parallel and Lucky's Doughnuts for their Holiday Twelve doughnuts. It was such a treat trying their different flavors - everything from an eggnog snowball, mulled wine or gingerbread old fashioned, candy cane sprinkle and a sufganiyah bismarck. Delicious! 

We kicked off the Christmas season by cutting down our very first tree. At the tip-top of my list of things to look forward to in marriage was picking out the spruce that would grace our living room for the holiday season. I was so excited about this! We drove to the Valley in our red truck (how quintessentially festive!) and ambled around the tree farm until we found just the right one. A short, stout noble fir with thick needles with a blue tint. It was beautiful. 

The next evening, after needles had settled, we shared the sweetest time decorating our lovely tree. Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald Christmas records were spinning, candles were aglow, and we had hot chocolate for sipping. That night, I was especially grateful for my mother's sweet tradition of gifting my sister and I an ornament every Christmas, so we'd have a full collection by the time we moved out from home. I have to say, I was quite proud of our  assortment of storied ornaments. Paul and I started our own tradition, too, by adding an ornament to our set every Christmas which represents our year together. This year, we got a sweet set of turtledoves. It only seemed appropriate for our first year of marriage. 

Lest I give the impression the evening was all fun and laughs, the tree may or may not have fallen under the weight of our many ornaments and, alas, my very favorite ornament broke. Water and needles were spilled across our hardwood floors, ornaments were scattered under every piece of furniture... it was quite the chaotic sight. But we recovered from the sad occurrence, set it back up, and our evergreen stood resplendent with a lovely star atop her. We stood before our tree at the end of the night, in awe of her beauty, and ever grateful for the advent of new traditions together. 

A mere couple mornings later... the first snow. It wasn't bound to stick, but it was magic all the same. There truly is nothing that makes me giddier than a flurry of feathery snow outside our big windows, and sugar-coated mountains in the distance. 

Our home sang of mirth and merriment all season. Dried oranges in cedar garlands along the window sills, an advent fir wreath on our table, knit stockings hung, Christmas parties with friends on the calendar... and, always, beloved Christmas songs flowing through the room. We couldn't bear taking the tree down until late January, and it somehow survived that long! An immortal tree, I reckon. 

A couple weeks before Christmas, Paul and I enjoyed a beautiful evening at the candlelight holiday concert with the Listeso string quartet. I love throwing on a dress and lipstick and going on city dates with my Paul. The music blew us away, featuring (among other things) portions of the Nutcracker suite, Vivaldi's Four Seasons, an angel-like vocalist singing Schubert's Ave Maria... We were in awe!

I hosted a couple girlfriends for a Christmassy crafting afternoon as well. We painted ornaments, made cookies and delighted in uninterrupted time together. I am so deeply grateful for female friendships, for the gift of being vulnerable with each other, bearing our hearts, and laughing together. It was a precious afternoon. 

A tradition I hope to carry on for years to come was giving homemade cookies to our neighbors. We delivered the cookies to all the tenants in our apartment building, as a way to get to know them and spread some Christmas cheer. I made eggnog cookies, Russian tea cakes, chocolate butterscotch cookies, snickerdoodles and gingerbread made with my mom-in-law. Our sweet neighbors were so touched, and I promised myself to tuck their reactions into the alcoves of my memory. I never want to forget it. 

Laurianne came to visit in early December and this proved to be quite a salve to my homesick heart! While she was here, we meandered around Gastown for Christmas presents, sipped rosemary pomegranate gimlets at home, watched the Family Stone (my very favorite Christmas movie), got sandwiches at Finch's Market, drove to Squamish for the day, indulged in a belated birthday celebration for her at Ask for Luigi. It was a very sweet time together, and got me so giddy for the Christmas season. 

I was quite weary of a Christmas away from my family in Montreal, but having some time with her in the early days of the yuletide season was so helpful. In the end, I did miss my family back home but the unbridled joy and excitement to share my first Christmas with Paul and the Thiessen family eclipsed most of my sadness. It was an unexpected joy to realize our families celebrate Christmas quite similarly, safe for a couple minor differences, which made me feel so at home.

This holiday season was especially momentous for the Thiessen family because Paul's sister and brother-in-law Heidi and Ross were here, all the way from England. Would you believe we had not seen them in over two years, since their wedding in London? The pandemic has had such significant repercussions on families, including ours, and it was a true and felt blessing to be able to embrace our loved ones and revel in togetherness again. 

There is so much more to write about, to remember. Our Christmas break was restful yet bursting with activity. We enjoyed a pair of days in Victoria, city outings with the siblings,  sledding with our nephews, stick horses wrapped in a red bow for them, board games and puzzling, a beautiful Christmas eve service, a living room carpeted in wrapping paper, cinnamon rolls and winter spice lattes, a happy yet teary phone call with family afar, reading on Christmas morning, a lavish feast for dinner, White Christmas and The Muppet Christmas Carol, a family brunch on Boxing Day. Merry, merry. 

A few days after Christmas, on one of the last mornings of the year, a big snow fell over night and we woke up to a white blanket covering our neck of the woods. Since we were both working from home that day, Paul insisted on squeezing in a walk before our homebound day. So off we went, all bundled up and sipping coffee in travel mugs, trudging through a winter wonderland. The sun was hanging low and gave the milky white mountains a golden glow. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that wintry morning. 

For New Year's, we enjoyed a quiet evening with our dear friends, Sarah and Nathan. We enjoyed raclette and cocktails (winter negronis, rosemary Manhattans, hot toddies), and I prepared some reflection questions as we ushered in the new year —such things as, what was your best meal in 2021? top three pop culture moments? favorite read? biggest lesson learned? prayer for 2022? It was a really sweet evening I'll cherish. 

Perhaps one of my favorite memories of all was falling asleep on a snowy night by the glow of our tree. We set up a mattress under the green needles, marveling at our ornaments and lovely Christmas star askew, ever grateful for our home in this magical season. 

We reveled in old and new traditions together, but in all of this we were reminded that Christmas all too easily sways us with temporary joys. This year, for Advent, I enjoyed a collection of Madeleine L'Engle's advent writings, called Miracle on 10th street. Her words hearten me! Here's an example: 

“Advent is not a time to declare, but to listen, to listen to whatever God may want to tell us through the singing of the stars, the quickening of a baby, the gallantry of a dying man.”

Tinsel and bows can swiftly overshadow the coming of a humble King surrounded by livestock in the scarcity of a manger. But His advent changes everything. Over and over, despite the constant whir of boisterous festivities, I was reminded of the heart of our celebrations - the One who left the 'heights of His divinity to reach the depths of our humanity' - that we might know the riches of grace. 

What good, good tidings. 

What an amazing thing to celebrate. 

I hope I never tire of celebrating it.