My last White Christmas

It's snowing in Chilliwack today. A rare White Christmas. Got me thinking about the last one, in 2008, and how much has changed since then.

As with many people, Christmas for me involves much tradition and routine. For most of the past few decades, Christmas Eve was spent with my husband’s family, Christmas Day at home with my parents visiting, Boxing Day with my family. Thus, although Christmas was always pleasant, it wasn't always particularly memorable. The days and years blended together in a warm ball of vague and repetitive rituals.

But a few years ago, in 2008, the weather interfered with those routine plans. A howling snowstorm prevented us getting into the city or our relatives coming here. My elderly friend Jean, whose family usually came out from Langley to get her for Christmas, was similarly trapped.

So we braved Yale Road into Chilliwack from our country home, and drove her out to our house for a visit. As often happens on Christmas Eve, some local friends came a wassailing, singing songs in exchange for cookies and wine. As often happened when my extremely elderly friend met handsome men, she proceeded to flirt shamelessly with one of the visiting husbands.

She stayed for dinner. We had prepared a prime rib for my husband’s family, but instead shared it with my nonagenarian friend (she was 96 at the time). One thing she appreciated even more than handsome men was good food. She was effusive in her appreciation for the feast we laid out.

I’m not a churchgoer, but my friends attend the local Rosedale United Church in the small village near my home. When I asked my elderly friend if she would like to attend the Christmas Eve ceremony, she was very enthusiastic.

Daryl drove us in the snowy blizzard, and Jean, Emma (10 at the time), and I sought shelter from the storm in the sanctuary of the little 100-year-old church, where my friends and their congregation were having their candlelight Christmas Eve service and singalong. Along with friends, men, and food, my elderly friend was passionate about music and singing, so she was very pleased to be joining the small congregation in song by candlelight as the snow fell outside and blanketed the Christmas Eve night in a pillowy silence. It moved me too, to see two of my friends Pam and Katie, mother and daughter, singing a duet of In the Bleak Midwinter.

All in all, it was a magical experience reminiscent of a Little House on the Prairie Christmas and my friend Jean and I both thought it was a welcome variation from the many routine Christmas Eves. 

Jean, my elderly friend, passed away in February at the age of 102. My mother-in-law, who we usually spent Christmas Eve with, has passed since this snowy Christmas happened too. We are making new traditions.