Monthly Challenge

The Best Christmas Present My Mum Ever Gave Me

The gift of understanding

The most beautiful Christmases I can remember were all the celebrations I had with my family when I was a kid. Of course, I had many memorable Christmases after I left my family home and the country of my birth.

My first Christmas away from home, I celebrated with Andy, whom I believed to be the love of my life. It was just us. We spent it at our tiny studio apartment, and though I missed the sound of Christmas carols and the smell of freshly baked cookies, I enjoyed the time with Andy.

There were times when we went skiing in the Dolomite or the Austrian Alps; after spending the day riding the white mountains, we hid in our cozy room, exchanged presents and cuddled together while through the window watching the colourful lights in the village below us.

And then there was a time when I found myself heartbroken in the vast foreign country, which today I call my home, all alone, lonely and lost, yet completely strangers showed me a different side of Christmas’s beauty. Actually, I wrote about it here:

Another time I travelled across Australia to experience the festivities in the Land Down Under with Geroge’s family. It was a beautiful time too. It was with George’s parents, brother, sister-in-law, and three teenage kids. This was so very exotic to me, but I loved it too.

All the Christmases had some charm, but nothing gave me the feeling of the Christmas magic I had experienced when I was at my family home.

I already wrote an article about why Christmas was so special to me, the wonderful lessons it taught me and how I felt after I emigrated, so I am not going to repeat myself. For those who missed it and would like to read it, you can find it below:

Today I would like to share another special Christmas, the last Christmas I spent with my family back in Poland, with my parents and my sister’s family.

In 2017 I took the long flight to Europe, and the first few days I spent with my sister’s family, who at that time lived in Frankfurt. I left Germany earlier and boarded another plane to go to Poland. My sister and her family came later by car (They had three kids, so the car wouldn’t be big enough for six passengers).

Also, I wanted to do something special for my parents and decided to go with them to the Tatra Mountains, where we used to go when I was little.

We stayed in my parents’ favourite B&B and spent the days going for walks and reminiscing about the “good old days”. This trip also got documented through “Letters to John” because John didn’t get time off work and couldn’t come with me. Yes, I missed John a lot, and though I tried not to show it and be cheerful as much as I could, my parents knew how I felt. Nonetheless, we had a wonderful time.

A couple of days after we returned home, my sister and her family arrived. We started baking and cooking and preparing for the celebration. The smell of freshly baked gingerbread and the sound of Christmas carols permeated the house. In some respect, the memories and even the feelings of my childhood Christmas returned, only this time, I wasn’t the kid, but my sister’s children brought all the joy into the house.

Finally, Christmas Eve arrived. There was some tension in the air because my sister’s husband, being of different cultural background and having no respect for any tradition or the ancestors, didn’t particularly like our traditional Christmas cuisine or the sound of the Polish Christmas carols, so we needed to make some adjustments. But, at least he respected our prayers and the respect we pay to our ancestors.

However, the part with the gifts was as I knew it from my childhood. The kids ran to the Christmas tree, selected a gift and gave it to the person to whom it was addressed. It was so much joy and fun! Everyone received a few gifts, and we all were happy about them (well, all but my sister’s husband, but let’s not spoil the fun).

After the evening celebrities were completed and everyone was getting ready for the night, my mum called me to my parents’ bedroom.

“I have one more present for you, but…” — my mum paused for a couple of seconds before she continued — “well, I don’t want to hurt you in any way, so….”

“Mum, you can’t hurt me with a gift! Whatever it is, I’m sure I will love it, and I will be grateful for it!” — I interrupted my mum cheerfully.

My mum looked at me, smiled and continued, “Okay, I will give it to you, but you don’t have to take it… If you don’t like it, just give it back to me, and we will forget all about it. I will understand, and I won’t be offended. And you won’t be angry with me, okay? Promise me.” — said my mum softly but solemnly.

“Yes, mum, of course, I won’t be angry with you! It’s a present!” — I said joyfully.

“Here it is. This is the cup, and I like it because it is so Christmassy, but it has this written on it….” — said my mum pointing to the words: ‘All I want for Christmas is you’, and she continued, “I know how much you miss John. I know all you wish for Christmas is to have John here with you. So I didn’t want to put this present under the Christmas tree, not to remind you of your pain of missing John.”

“Mum, that’s the most wonderful present I have ever got from you”, — I interrupted my mum, trying to keep my composure and not show how much my mum’s words touched me. (My mum and I hardly ever show emotions. We “stay strong”…) The fact that she understood me and how I felt that night meant the world to me.

“So… do you want the present? Aren’t you mad at me?” — my mum asked me

“Mum, of course, I am not mad at you. As I said, this is the most wonderful present you have ever given me. Thank you so much.”

Until today I have the cup, and this is my most special cup. Every time I drink out of it, I remember that Christmas and think of my mum. This was the second time my mum showed me a deep understanding. The first time also related to John…

For those who don’t know me, when I was a teenager, my relationship with my mum was dreadful. It was a constant war… All I wanted from my mum was to be understood and accepted. My mum, however, never could understand me and tried to “make me into who I should be”.

Actually, it got so bad that when I left Poland for Germany, I didn’t want to have any contact with my mum… She made some mistakes, and as a result, I ended up with PTSD (or at least, it contributed greatly to my PTSD). My mum isn’t some vicious person. No, she is a loving and caring mum, but she just didn’t understand me… And that led to a series of events that almost had a tragic end…

Luckily life took the turn it did, my mum apologized for her mistakes, and I have forgiven her. Actually, we have forgiven each other — with my rebellious nature, I surely wasn’t an easy child ;) My mum still struggles to understand me, but she doesn’t try to change me. And when I don’t feel well, call my parents and say, “Mum, I feel so down today” my mum replies, “Okay, wait a second. I will get your dad — he will be able to help you!” and we both laugh. With my dad, we have always understood each other perfectly.

This was the last Christmas I celebrated with my family, but I hope we will celebrate more Christmases together in the future, and I hope next time John will come with me.

If you would like to know more about me, who I am and where I came from, then check any article in the list below, maybe starting with the article Life of a hopeless (yet successful) dreamer