The Case for Heat: Why Cold Christmases Are a Feeble Imitation to Celebrating in Summer.
Should we have learned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has decreed Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. Is that so?
The bigwigs in the top of the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they are without the innate knowledge we southern hemisphere folk possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply the better way. This season is fraught enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to battle seasonal depression on top of it all.
A Chilly Childhood
And this isn't just hot air. I spent my entire childhood enduring cold festive seasons. Despite my family hailing from New Zealand, my father's career led to inevitable international moves. My younger years were scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought early nightfall and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The style options; bundling up is inherently stylish.
In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly enchanting. The cosy charm of a chilly celebration is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was lacking an authentic celebration that not even the most decadent hot chocolate could make up for.
A Move to Summer
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a full festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a bigger crowd to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, concocting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that was famously strong. We all slept well that night.
This became our routine for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with playful battles across the table. That was, until my parents answered the call of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England.
A Revelation in Reverse
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Sipping sangria in the sun. Feasting upon piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Vibrant sunsets stretched across the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate.
"That summer heat eased the grief in monumental ways."
This feeling was cemented after my father passed away. My mother decided to move back to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was profoundly difficult, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once again surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun helped ease the grief in monumental ways.
A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite
All this said, I readily admit to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to wander around Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a glimpse of snow. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a little hold on me!
Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be close by as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always yearned for. Not even the deepest powder can hold a candle to that feeling.
