Did you toast absent friends this Christmas? We did. We always do. It serves little purpose, I suppose, because those who are no longer with us aren’t coming back to life and those who live far away are far away due to choice (ours or theirs) or by circumstance. As someone who doesn’t do God, Christmas to me is all about family and friends. There is nothing good about being away from family and friends at Christmas.
We have skyped my two brothers who live in Vancouver and seen my partner’s family in Bristol. The former was lovely, although ultimately depressing because Skype isn’t a handshake, it’s not a hug, it’s not a touch. At best, we can see and talk to our loved ones. We’re not really with them, though. The latter was reality. And it was good.
When we toast absent dead friends and family, I guess our feelings depend on circumstances. Elderly parents and grandparents, who lived long, happy lives we can raise a glass to lives well lived. Younger people who died before their time, less so. It is always hard to celebrate a life cut short. I thought of my parents, my stepfather and my grandparents, one of whom died before I was even born, but I was far more emotional about those who are very much alive and well and living on the other side of the world. The less I see them in person, the older I get, the more I worry that I might not see them again. Life throws too many curveballs at you to enable you to be certain of anything.
One day, we may have the perfect Christmas, where we are all in the same place, celebrating life, love and family. It might not happen, but we can dream. I learned long ago to cherish family and friends above all else. I am blessed to be at home with so many of those I love. To be away from all of them would make life a pointless exercise.
So here’s to absent friends. Far too many of them.
