Paul Hopkins: Hopefully, this year we kill the fatted turkey

Christmas is the ideal time to enjoy our relationships in all their guises. Even allowing for the gripes and groans, the freneticism around the shops, the negotiations with in-laws and the, eh, joys of Christmas catering, for many — those of us fortunate enough, that is — this time of the year is a time for regrouping, hibernating even — certainly taking stock — with family and friends. (That said, there is lots of advice out there on how to have an even better time without them!)

"There's a sense that at this time of year we can overcome family tensions to celebrate our relationships," says my psychologist friend from Magherafelt over a hot port the other evening. "All our un-Scrooge-like qualities come into play."

My friend believes Christmas resonates strongly for older people who particularly value that sense of enduring family ties. This, too, is especially true for divorced or separated couples with children who generally work hard to make it a happy time for their young.

Before you all head off on those last-minute spending sprees, it may help to consider research in the Journal of Happiness Studies. (Who thinks up the titles of these tomes?). Its study, 'What Makes For A Happy Christmas,' found that it does not depend on how much we spend (this tends to make people less happy) or on how much is spent on us (also a downer, maybe because of guilt); rather, it depends on how much time we spend with our families, how religious we are — and that should be respected, whatever your ideology — and how well we control our overall behaviour at this time of the year. None of these traits can you wrap and put under a tree.

Last Christmas was, to put it mildly, a non-starter for so many who, with social isolation and intermittent lock-downs in play, never got the chance to spend time with loved ones. Many of our families abroad never made it home. Only 54,311 people arrived into Dublin, Shannon and Cork airports over that Christmas and New Year, according to the Department of Justice, way, way down on the previous year's 1.2 million, the busiest Christmas in our airports' 80-year history.

This coming Christmas has something of a cloud hanging over it. We had thought that by now we would have put the pandemic behind us. That coming home for Christmas would be back up and running. It is, in that so many of our loved ones abroad have long put in place plans to come home for the festive holiday; fares are booked, prezzies bought and bags are packed. But with the ever-mutating rogue microbe — and the now new South African variant on top of the Delta running riot throughout Europe — the next few weeks will be telling on whether or not the brakes will be put on driving home for Christmas.

To borrow from TS Eliot, a cold coming we (yet) may have of it...

My youngest son has booked his flight home from New York, and is bringing his girlfriend to Ireland for the first time, to meet his family and spend Christmas with us, the first visit home in some years. In many ways he is the Prodigal Son, and I, for one, shall be killing the fatted turkey. Meantime, his mother is beside herself with the thought of it, and can't wait to indulge his every whim. He may well be a grown man at 34 but, trust me, he still has his whims that need indulging as can only be done by an Irish mammy.

I am just praying the pandemic does not put paid to his plans.

Christmas may well be about family but, while many older people are still embedded in the heart of their family and community, others have become increasingly isolated. A sad indictment that, in an age when we are more connected than ever, so many feel socially marooned. One in every 10 on this island faces being alone over Christmas, according to Alone.

Pandemic or not, Christmas isn't special because of what it was or where it came from. It's special because of what it still is: hopefully this year, a gathering where we will see the faces of loved ones — perhaps, for the last time — with whom to celebrate, and count our blessings.

Despite the inconsolable sadness of the so many Empty Chairs brought about by the coronavirus.