We always did our Christmas family reunion in high fashion. It is like walking into the Academy Awards in your best dress. Some have the most beautiful of red dresses draped over their bodies. The men all wearing suits or their cute ugly sweaters. Santa Claus always finds his way here in his big red suit and bag filled with promises and toys to place under the huge pine tree that greets you when you walk in. The walkway is sometimes a carpet of fresh, white snow, and it is usually the most extravagant of parade ways. The hype is so high, it is a celebration from the moment of entry.
I haven’t seen some of the faces of my family members since last year at
this time. We converge with a kiss on the cheek and the request to remove your shoes and to walk with just your socks on your feet over the wooden floors. I think it is fun because when you get into the danceable moments sponsored by my curated Spotify playlists, you can sing along to the Christmas carols, dip, and slide across the floors with a smile bigger than Carlton’s on the Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
I mask my winter blues like I
always do when I see them. It is like a glow of stardust washes my troubles
away and brings me sparks of joy. Seeing my family member’s eyes bring a glow
over the verge of tears that I’d been facing. The year can sometimes push me to the brink of
despair but for this family gathering, I feel like a poem of bubbling brooks
and flowers blooming.
And as they walk in the door,
the aroma of something savory is wafting from the kitchen. Every burner and
rack in the oven is occupied with a food item on its way to being ready to eat.
The counters filled with spices, desserts being decorated, and foods still being
prepped for cooking.
We cook like this is the last
supper with more food than you would probably eat in the 525,600 minutes that measure
the year. There is so much deliciousness spread out over the table that your
stomach gets filled just by looking at it. My mother put her foot into each and
every bit of the meal that is about to be shared. The turkey timer has popped
and now I can add my corn souffle into the oven so that it can be ready for the
dinner we are about to serve.
I added my two senses into cooking
as well and turn my kitchen into a canvas and the ingredients that get added
are like my paint. Art is on my mind and the ideas I sketch with the charcoal
pencils of my fingertips. The food we eat, a picture-perfect masterpiece like
those in MOMA, and all who are exposed to it are getting a piece of my heart.
The dinner call is sounded,
like a chapel bell of a 16th-century church and the whole family approaches the
table. We gather and we pray over the meal:
“Father God, thank you for the
day that you made and for the food that we eat and for the hands that prepared it
and for the family that gathered, for those who wanted to come but didn’t find
the opportunity, and for those who have become ancestors and rest in your
peaceful arms. That you might continue to bless us and to keep us and to protect
us with your grace and with your love. You are mighty and everlasting and we
love you and bless you. In the name of Jesus. Amen.”
It is cute to hear the little ones who can barely talk say, “Bonne Appetit,” but we all do it in our little celebration. Actually, I make sure to make them say it so that they can have knowledge of some of the words from our Haitian culture. Those words are part of it. Some of the foods and drinks found on the table are as well like the Kremas which is like eggnog with rum in it or the Griot which is pork chunks that are one of the many meat items on the table and diri a djondjon which is black rice with dried mushrooms.
It is more than just the
eating that is involved. The stories we share of tradition and exoticism always
pique my interest. When you think about all the experiences you face in a year’s
time, it is no secret that there is so much to talk about if the right person
to talk to sits at your gate. We sip some of the best Apple Cider you can find
and chat. Maybe a sibling or cousin is the family that becomes your listening
board, or maybe it is a friend who is like family, who intently listens to the ranting
of it all without judgment or interruption. This is what makes the conversations
interesting. There is always something new being told, something different
being shared that you have yet to hear and that you are newly learning for the
first time. The laughter is like a weight being lifted off because it surely
makes you feel better.
We eat and chat and then we play
our annual Taboo game. It is always such a fun experience trying to get our
team to guess the words that we are attempting to animate so that we can win
the game. I think I laugh the most during these times because it is so much fun
just getting lost in these moments that never seem to get old. While we play, everyone is experimenting with all
the different desserts that are on the table; cakes, cookies, pies, ice cream,
jello, and candy. These are the yummy moments that are passed until we start to
distribute all the different gifts that are under the tree.
Everyone in the place is
unwrapping gifts in excitement over what someone thought was a good gift for
them. I’ll never forget the time when my next-door neighbor put a Michael
Jackson jacket in a box for me and gave it to me. I wonder if that was one of
the reasons that I became a performing artist. That was one of my favorites. The
other most memorable was an album of Miles Davis recordings, and I love Miles
Davis. What a beautiful gift to receive from a kid at that. Seems like Auntie’s
baby knows me better than I thought; made me so happy.
The night ends with everyone
packing a big foil tray filled with food to take home. Everyone scatters out
the door back onto the carpet full of snow and make their exit back to their
regularly scheduled programs. It is sad to see them all go and even sadder to
know of all the cleaning that needs to be done to bring the art of Christmas
back to a blank canvas.
I think sometimes I count five
hours of washing dishes, cleaning pots, and putting glasses and other things
back into the china for safe keeping until next year, same time, same
celebration. But to think of the reason for continuing on in this tradition for
as long as we have, a smile is ignited.
We continue on. The numbers
might decrease due to heaven calling some to its gates but it is always a
welcome celebration that will always make Christmas one of my favorite times of
the year.
And now that the year is coming to a close, I am thankful for all these traditions and for all the good times and bad times, and for being blessed to see this moment of time. I find peace in it knowing that I made it through. God has been so good and it is not a secret. May your 2023 be the most lovely, prosperous, and powerful year that you have ever seen. I offer to you "Peace on Earth: https://youtu.be/ctlbmq9Rit8
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