If you don't love where you came from, you can't love where you're going to...

                                                         

Ever since I left the island over ten years ago, the holidays have always been a bit sad for me. Growing up, it was always my favorite time of the year.

Even though there were always presents, it seems to me that it never was about the giving.  I don't remember anyone scrambling to get their "holiday shopping" done the way I hear people talk about here every December.

   It was more about being together.  And eating and drinking together.  I remember Abuelita N stopping by on a random weekday afternoon to deliver her famous apple cake. Always with a doyle underneath, always sprinkled generously with powdered sugar.  I remember aunt M's driver dropping off her fruit cake (the only thing that aunt M ever made that us kids would not even look at, so my dad could delight in it without worrying about it being gone before he came home from work).

   I remember music, and fairy lights, and beer, and rum, and punch (that we would secretly drink when mom wasn't looking).  I remember secret Santas that lasted for weeks,  with the weekly presents being fun and intricate April fool like jokes, exchanged at a different friend's house every week, around  a table full of deliciousness. I remember whole roasted pigs, and a few cousins fighting over who would get the ears or the tail.

                                                        

  But mostly, I remember love, and cheer.  So when December rolls around,  I inevitably always get a little sad and nostalgic.

  Last week, on Christmas Eve, I sat down to write two very special letters (well emails but they were written with the love that one writes a letter...).  One was for all my family and friends back home, letting them know how much I miss them every year during the holidays.

  The other, was for my American family,  none of whom are blood relatives.  They are family by heart.  Some I have inherited from my husband (his family) and the rest, are the friends I have made throughout my time in this country.

    They are the ones I have been with during all the celebrations (as well as the not so fun times) when I wasn't able to go home.  They are the ones that I was at work with, for those countless holidays when we didn't get the day off.  Through time spent together, we bonded, and through holidays, birthdays, breakups and other mishaps, we became family.  Some years, their families welcomed me for their celebrations, and took me in with open arms and open hearts like if I was one of their own. And for that day, and sometimes more to come, I was.  In that letter, I thanked them for that.

 As I reminisced of all those Christmases, Thanksgivings and New Year's spent away from "home" I realized how wonderful they all were.  All of a sudden, I was nostalgic not only for my Dominican family, but for all of my USA family (some of which are not American) that is now far away.  I thought of the many different family (and cultural) traditions I was a part of throughout the years. There was always so much love, so much laughter, so many delicious meals, special drinks, hugs and smiles.

                                          

  It suddenly dawned on me that I have been looking at it all wrong.  Yoga teaches us to be present.  The here and the now, is all that matters, as it is all that exists, and the only thing that is real.  It's not about where we are not, or where we would rather be.  It's about where we are.  Right here, right now.  It's about being present, and devoting all of my energy and attention, to the lovely people that I am fortunate enough to be spending this precious time with. 

  The best way to reminisce and to honor all of the amazing individuals that I have been blessed to spend so many wonderful times with, is to embrace and share the traditions they shared with me, with all of the new amazing people that I have crossed paths with.

I have been truly blessed, for there has been love in every holiday in my life.  And I now humbly share it forward with much gratitude. 

This year, on Christmas Eve, we were invited to our friend J's house.  Her boyfriend, his son, and her dear friend D finished off the guest list.
  She made her grandma's volcano ham for us.  Basted in gingersnaps, bourbon and Dijon mustard, it was unbelievable... 

                                

  Before we ate, J and I cheered with our forks, the way we learned from the W's (from his family's tradition). I made Abuelita N's cake, as I always do, and brought it as my contribution to the meal.

                                         

After dinner, we decorated Christmas cookies for dessert, as part of our host's family tradition...

                                               

On Christmas day, I made pozole in honor of my friend M and his family.  Every year,  his aunt makes it for Christmas eve, and it has now become something I think of every December 24th.

                                                  

  I made Egg Nog, and toasted to E and C as I realized I had forgotten the nutmeg...

And today, as I write these words, I have just finished making some bourbon balls (J's family tradition) to bring over to our friend H's Annual New Year's Eve dinner party, to which we are honored to have been invited to this year.
                             

  May we all be blessed with love and cheer in the new year, and may we realize that although our past is an important part of who we are, and our future holds with it a world of possibilities, it is only in the present, today, in this very moment, that we are able to fully connect with the essence of our true self.

And no matter where we are, or who we are with, may we be love, and may we be peace.
Namaste.