Christmas Party

It's the day of my annual Christmas Party today. Actually I should say "our" Christmas Party. My group of friends and I have been doing this ever since I came to Calgary almost six years ago. These days I don't do as much as I used to. Now Brad and others take over in the kitchen and I get shunted to the side. I don't mind; I wear out pretty easy now.

I've had to work hard to keep the guest list down this year.  Our little group has changed over the years, with many of us having spouses or significant others now. What used to be a big party with a dozen people has morphed into a crowd of at least 24. There are so many people I would like to invite, old friends and new. Yet I cannot, simply because there is no room in the inn.

Oddly enough, I feel very sad today. I am not sure if this is a realization moment, a moment when I know that I will not likely do this again. Next year is shrouded in mist, not just for me but for all of us. The only difference is that the mist is a bit thinner in my case. I can see through, and I don't like the view for next Christmas. That makes me sad. It makes me sad that I can no longer entertain as I once did, that I have to give up so much of what I enjoyed in preparing for this party. There are so many things in my life like this these days, moments when I wonder if I will do it ever again.

It's not that I do nothing. I've been busy for days, shopping, wrapping gifts, making cookies. I started with wine well over a month ago, and it is barely ready today. It's a fast variety, so it should be reasonable. Even today I will be busy. I have to make stuffing for the turkey, then put it in the oven within the next hour. Then there are more gifts to wrap, more small tasks to be done.

Once Brad arrives, I will turn over the kitchen to him. Once other helpers arrive, they can do things like getting the wine out and getting the tables ready. There will be enough food and gifts that we will need at least two tables. I will get the mulling spices ready for the wine, but someone else will have to draw it out of the carboys.

There is so much to do, so much that I cannot and will not do. Maybe that is why I am sad. Maybe it's because Katherine won't be here tonight; she has a conflicting event at her church which she is committed to. I don't know I feel this way. As Katherine says, I will be happy when my friends come. She's right.