Tonight, K and I celebrated our twentieth Wigilia together. Twenty Christmas Eves. Hundreds, no, likely thousands, of uszki. Cakes upon cakes upon cakes. Salads and sides, fish and oplatki, pierogi and presents. Twenty years of them.
A very significant Wigilia indeed.
Over the years, various significant Wigilias have passed without us realizing their significance. The last Wigilia with Dziadek was in 2007: he would live another six years, but we were never again together during the Christmas season.
Wigilia of 2017 was our last Wigilia with Nana. She was in the rehabilitation hospital in 2018, and by Wigilia 2019, she had passed away. We, of course, didn’t know this was the last Wigilia with her. Perhaps that’s for the best? Too depressing — just treat every Wigilia as if it’s the last one with those around you.
Wigilia 2020 was our last one with Papa. Again, if we had known…
By then, he was “Papa” to everyone, the resident elder with patience and love enough to match his years — to surpass them by far, in fact.
And so last year’s Wigilia was significant in that it was the first without either Nana, Papa, or Dzidek, and physically without Babcia as she was in Polska. Their absence doesn’t go unnoticed, to be sure, but we’ve all grown accustomed to the new world without them.
This year’s affair was the most intimate we’ve ever had. Even our close friends from Asheville weren’t here, only the youngest of the crew, C.
And how was it with such a small group? No different. We shared the opłatki (inasmuch as American teens can be sentimental). We ate a small dinner — relatively speaking.
We opened presents. Some were serious efforts to please; others, not so much. The Boy got a book on making small changes to make big changes in your life. It’s called Make Your Bed. Perhaps that’s a habit we’re still having difficulty instilling in our son?
After the traditional Christmas Eve gift opening time — what’s not to love about that particular Polish tradition?! — we stacked electronic devices into a single pile, pulled out a game we all agreed on playing, and proceeded to have the most lovely time together.
A screening of White Christmas — what a lovely and innocent film! — we headed off for Midnight Mass for the first time as a whole family in a very long time.
In short, a perfect Wigilia.
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