The Case for Heat: Why Cold Christmases Pale in Comparison to a Sunny Season's Celebration.
If we have learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served cold. Whatever!
The powers that be in the top of the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they lack the innate knowledge we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply superior. This season is stressful enough – regardless 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 an empty claim. I spent my formative years enduring cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were spent in the UK and the US, meaning every December brought early nightfall and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The fashion choices; bundling up is effortlessly chic.
In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, iconic, and the possibility of snow is truly magical. The snug appeal of a frosty gathering is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was missing out an true 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 extended relatives for the first time. With a larger group to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, crafting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that was famously strong. We slept soundly that night.
This became our tradition for years – celebrating together with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents answered the call of a new job and moved to a particularly cold part of northern England.
Nostalgia's Surprise
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I anticipated a wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas special. Sipping sangria in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Hot-pink sunsets stretched across the sky. In that moment, 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 return home to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was incredibly tough, his loss palpable everywhere. Yet, being once again surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways.
Conflicting Celebrations
All this said, I readily admit to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be spending Christmas during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a snowfall. The frosty festive ideal still has a little hold on me!
Still, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a joy my younger self always yearned for. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.