The gifts are wrapped, the lights on the tree are shining and the fridge is packed with goodies – Christmas should be the most magical time of year. So why, when the shopping malls begin playing corny festive music and the supermarket aisles get clogged with boxes of fruit mince pies, do I start feeling a little bit blah?
I’m not a Grinch, honestly, but I do hate the pressure that builds as we ramp up towards the big day. My close family is overseas and this is when I’m reminded how much I miss them. Plus, I struggle with the idea it’s obligatory to be joyful – because what if you’re not?
For many people, Christmas can bring stress, loneliness and financial worry, it can be a reminder of what they’ve lost or what they’ve never had. It can be tricky.
For starters, families come in all shapes nowadays. Weekly columnist Wendyl Nissen and her husband Paul Little have a blended family. Each had two children when they met and went on to have a daughter together. It was okay when the kids were little but as they grew up, Christmas got complicated.
“I remember one year looking at where everyone had to go,” Wendyl says. “To us, to their other parent and then to their partners’ parents, who in some cases were also separated… They were exhausted, racing all over Auckland, trying to keep everyone happy.”
Wendyl (54) came up with a solution. Nowadays, her large family – there can be 25 of them – celebrates together on Christmas Eve, enjoying a feast and gift giving without the stress of having to dash off to the next place.
“That’s what the French do, so we’re very cosmopolitan,” she says.
The day itself is quieter and sometimes the couple will head off for their summer holiday. Wendyl knows other mums who get upset if their children don’t find time for them at Christmas.
“But with big blended families, you’ve just got to relax a bit and make it as easy as possible for the kids to get through it all.”
Weekly food editor Nici Wickes (50) is at the other extreme.
“I’m a single person with no dependents,” she explains, “but that doesn’t necessarily take the complexity out of Christmas.”
Usually, she celebrates with her parents and some, or all, of her four sisters and their families. This year, the gathering is at Nici’s bach in Port Waikato and she’ll be serving up a feast with all the trimmings (she’s already cooked it once for her food column so knows it’s going to be delicious).
“I have a lovely family and I’m excited about it, but there will be some reflection,” admits Nici, who finds Christmas Day a time when she is reminded of what she is missing. “At some point, I’ll reflect that I haven’t got a partner. I’ll look around and think of the things I don’t have rather than the things I do.”
Nici has a coping strategy for feeling like this in the midst of a crowd.
“What I do is text other partner-less or childless friends of mine. We keep each other sane and supported.”
She also says that when you’re used to living on your own, it can be challenging to have an intense period where you’re surrounded by lots of other people, however much you love them – particularly if you’re not feeling great in the first place.
“You’re supposed to be on form because Santa doesn’t have a bad day,” says Nici. “But I remember one Christmas a couple of years ago when my menopause was raging and I was feeling melancholy. I’d recently broken up with a guy and I kept wanting to burst into tears, but I have a little house and there was absolutely nowhere to go off for a weep!”
Christmas can leave you frazzled or reflecting on your life. It can also be a deeply saddening time.
Broadcaster Stacey Morrison’s grandfather passed away this year and she is struggling to imagine Christmas without him.
“There are odd little moments, like writing out a Christmas list and realising his name isn’t on it,” she says.
For Stacey (43), who was 27 when she lost her mother Sue to breast cancer, Christmas has long been bittersweet.
“My nana was young when she died too. How do you regroup when a really essential person is no longer there? It can make you feel lost.”
Stacey misses having her mum to help create special traditions for her own children and always includes small symbols to make sure Sue remains a part of the day.
“I have a white candle for her – it’s calming and is something that glimmers on. I also have her favourite Iceberg rose on special occasions.”
Stacey’s in-laws in Rotorua make a point of remembering those who are missing from the celebration.
“Scotty’s family has photos of those who should be there,” she explains. “And in Rotorua on Christmas Day, the cemetery is the place to be. They go and sit with the people they’ve lost, play guitars and even pour a beer over the grave so they can have a drink!”
She knows that Sue wouldn’t have wanted the festive season to be a sad time for the family she left behind.
“It was just after the Christmas period that she started to go downhill quite quickly and went into hospice,” she recalls. “When I had a reading with Hollywood medium Tyler Henry, he said she wanted to wait until after the holiday so it wasn’t an association I’d have and I thought, ‘Wow, that’s exactly what Mum would do, wait because she didn’t want to ruin Christmas.’”
For Helen Jackson, the run-up to Christmas is far busier than it is for most. There are cars zipping in and out of her driveway and hams piling up in the hallway.
Well-known foodie Helen (52) has a recipe website – foodlovers.co.nz – but in her spare time, she runs a small charity, the Guardian Angels Trust, which raises funds to help relieve the financial stresses for families of terminally ill children.
Over the course of the year, she’ll help around 50 families pay for necessities, such as food, bills and even funeral costs. And when it comes to Christmas, she does her best to bring them a little joy as well.
“We deliver Christmas hams – we have a lovely man who buys as many as we need every year,” she explains. “We also deliver gifts that have been donated and vouchers so the families can go shopping for food, and buy presents for the sick kids and their siblings.”
Fundraising is a struggle but Helen and her fellow trustees cover all administration costs so 100 per cent of what is raised goes to those in need.
Christmas can be an especially heartbreaking time when a child is dying and, while Helen can’t wave a magic wand, it’s comforting to help these families have a happier day.
“Lots of those children wouldn’t be getting anything otherwise,” she points out.
Her own children expect their gifts and treats, just like other normal kids, but becoming involved with Guardian Angels has given them a wider perspective on the day.
“They have that nice feeling about helping other people, particularly at Christmastime,” says Helen. “And that’s a powerful feeling.”
Find out more about how to support Helen Jackson’s trust at guardianangels.co.nz.
Words: Nicky Pellegrino