In your arms

December 23, 2022

I can guarantee you that 2024 will bring longer chapters and interesting things will happen 👀. I wish the same for the real life of each of you.

December 23, 2022

Every year when the Christmas holidays approach I get an incredible sense of loss, mixed with anger, mixed with sadness. Every year I tell myself that there is no point in making end-year review, that indeed, if I ever have to make one, I should still be happy with the good things I have, with the job I love, with my group of friends who are a family, with the health that goes with me. If it goes well I, then, end up feeling selfish, because I come to think that these are "normal" things, the basic things that everyone should have, while my life lacks the spark, which is paradoxical for someone who fights sparks in life for a living, as a job. If it goes wrong, I start brooding about the past, about what could have been and wasn't, about the choices I made and the ones I didn't have the courage to make. A sense of sadness, on the other hand, always pervades me these days, even if I try to mask it or on the contrary try to feign a sense of relief: all my colleagues fret days before Christmas about planning lunches and dinners, putting together family pieces, managing children the ones who have them, arranging shifts to match those of their life partners. Andy starts fifteen days earlier going crazy behind a family group chat where they draw up menus for various lunches, decide who buys what, fight over who's buying what...things I'd go crazy over. Ben gloats about all the days before, especially when he discovers that his shifts coincide with his wife's and they can enjoy family time. Even Jack is looking forward to Christmas so he can have a movie marathon with the kids from the community where he grew up and where he volunteers when he can. I feel sad that I have no family waiting for me, no one to fight with over who buys the dried fruit or mistletoe. As always, however, I stand in the corner watching other people's interactions and rants with a satisfied smirk on my face and emphasize several times, exaggerating the concept, how lucky I am to spend that day alone: bullshit.

My schedule for the day today is identical, although I have to endure another maxi group dinner, to celebrate early all together, in "our extended family" as Vic puts it. We're back at the station, we're back at the end of the shift, we're back with the table super set like a recent Thanksgiving dinner deja-vu.

< do you need a hand with those?> a voice behind me says, risking dropping the four bottles of wine that with some kind of strange balancing act I was managing to bring down. Carina's hands rush to help me, thus coming into contact with mine and risking even more of an accident. By the time our eyes meet and she smiles sweetly at me, I can already feel the pool of red liquid widening beneath my feet, complete with broken glass scattered everywhere. Instead, miraculously, I manage the feat of bringing down the bottles without breaking a single one, followed step by step by Carina.

M < what are you doing here?> I ask and perhaps come across as a bit harsh, because she looks at me raising an eyebrow.

C < it's good to see you too!> she jokes, making me roll my eyes.

M < I didn't expect to find you here..>

C < isn't it Christmas dinner?> she asks rhetorically and I sigh. The truth is, I wish she had told me or perhaps, even better, I wish I had brought her here. Our conversation is interrupted by Vic, who joins us, greeting Carina, and gradually by everyone else joining in, each taking his or her place at the table. Ironically, this time I find myself sitting right next to Carina, too bad that on the other side is Luke, who continues to keep an arm around her shoulders, holding her close and not missing an opportunity to kiss her, even though she somehow tries to pull back.

Apart from this slight annoyance at having her next to me hugging someone else, all in all the dinner passed pleasantly, the children this time stole the show, and there was no diplomatic incident of any kind, strangely enough I did not argue with anyone and there were no ambiguous jokes or embarrassing stories either. In order not to tempt fate too much, I decided to volunteer to wash the dishes so as to avoid falling into the temptation of spoiling everything. Yet fate has a few more surprises in store for me. Or maybe it is just Carina who enjoys messing with me, because as soon as I get up to go to the kitchen she offers to help me. She does not want to hear the reasons of others, who invite her to sit down again, because she is a guest in our house, but I already know that is the least of the reasons that can convince her, indeed this will serve as an excuse for her to say that since her childhood her grandmothers have accustomed her this way, to be hospitable even in other people's homes, to serve others and help them, so that everyone can feel at home always, with everyone, everywhere. I don't even try to contradict her, I simply go up the stairs and after a while I find her standing by the sink.