Being happy...without Christmas.

I like solitude for Christmas. That’s much better than family gatherings. Families, I’ve learned, can be dangerous. I grew up in a household of stress and tension.  Especially at Christmastime .  And even in later years, when we had family reunions, the squabbles persisted.  The focus wasn’t on things going right in our lives. On the present and the future. But rather on the past. Recriminations. Bad times. Frictions.  Maybe that’s a sign of dysfunctional families.  Anyway, all this made me aware of the benefits of solitude. Rather than family gatherings. Now that I’m living in Italy with my Italian true love, I can’t necessarily avoid family gatherings. And I don’t want to. But I like to weave solitude into the Christmas celebration, too. Because Christmas often has the knack of pulling out the worst in families. Even in the best of families. Maybe it’s that everyone longs for a perfect Christmas. For everything to go right. And when it doesn’t there’s great disappointment.  Therefore, all I ask for Christmas is a special moment. A precious moment. Something to savor. And I had that this Christmas. Because my Italian true love and I found ourselves alone. All by ourselves. On a rocky ledge. Overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. In a place called Portoscuso. On a perfect weather day. Balmy. Sunny.  In the 70s. A light breeze.  I imagined that 2,000 years ago, there might have been Romans perched on these same rocks. With this same view.  With a sense of peace and tranquility and solitude. Didn’t matter what day it was. Christmas had not yet been invented. And one could still be happy. Without Christmas. –Jim Broede