May Memoir: Ca va? Stories from Rural Life in Southern France, Chapter 22, Christmas

Welcome to May MEMOIR!

Day 23

For the entire month of May, I'll be sharing part of each chapter from my memoir, Ca va?  Stories from Rural Life in Southern France.

Each year, my family has a Christmas party, and almost everyone attends.  That would be 70 people, and counting.  The first year I took Christophe to Chicago, we arrived on the night of the annual Christmas party, which we went to right after stepping off our 9 hour flight from Paris.  Now, the whole family laughs, but he truly had a baptism by fire. 

Chapter 22: Christmas

Tonight is the annual family Christmas party and everyone is there anxiously waiting to see us.  This is not a surprise.  I told Christophe about it when I found out we bought the plane tickets on the day it was scheduled.  He said he was looking forward to going to it, but he did warn me that he probably wouldn’t be in his best form.

My brother in law has met us at the airport, and in the car I talk to him as I try to unplug my ears.  The pressure is making it difficult to hear and I can see Christophe is doing the same.  We pull out of the airport parking lot and quickly merge into traffic.  We enter one of Chicago’s busiest highways with four lanes of traffic speeding by in both directions.  It is strange to be back.  I know this area, but there is something unfamiliar about it.  It seems bigger and faster moving than before and I note how easily Ed maneuvers through traffic.

“The party is at our house this year”, he begins.  “Are you two up for going there or should I drop you off at your mom’s house?”

“Christophe?  What do you think?”  I ask looking back at him.

“Let’s go, but I don’t think I can stay long.  I’m really tired,” he replies.

“That’s alright.  It’ll be nice to see everyone again, even if it is briefly.”

With that, Ed chooses his route and we are soon at his and my sister’s house.  We get out of the warm car into the cold night air.  There are family cars parked all along the street and it is calm outside.  We see tastefully done Christmas lights on their neighbors’ houses.  Decorated Christmas trees are placed before the front windows and outside the bare trees are strung with lights that quietly flicker.  This is something familiar to me and reassuring; it has not changed.  We can see stars in the night sky; it is quiet and the only noise is the snow crunching under our feet as we make our way towards the front door.  We open it and enter.

We are greeted by a wall of sound as almost everyone inside screams, “Welcome Back!”  Nieces and nephews run to door, hug my legs, and then start their barrage of questions.  The crowd surges towards us in a welcome and the air temperature quickly jumps 50 degrees from just moments ago.  I am hugged by family members and Christophe is bombarded with handshakes and welcomes.

Christophe looks at me; he is pale and his eyes are red he is so tired.  “I need to step outside”, he says in a low voice.  It looks like he is going to pass out.

After some well needed air, rest, and a few days of adjustment, Christophe and I announce our news: we plan to marry that summer in our remote mountain village in Southern France.