For 25 years, my family has celebrated a joint Christmas with divorced parents, step-parents, and siblings. But the first time, when I was 11, I braced for tension. Instead, I found my parents and step-parents in bed together on Christmas morning, chatting merrily in their dressing gowns.
My mum and stepmum peeled parsnips together in the kitchen, both favouring efficiency over ceremony. My dad and stepdad walked in lockstep on the pre-lunch walk, discussing finance and feelings. The most thoughtful gifts were exchanged between the divorced and remarried couples.
There were surreal moments: my mum and stepmum discussing my dad's snoring at length on Boxing Day, or my mum offering tips on how to make the niche grapefruit and pine nut salad my dad has loved since childhood. But these 'weird' exchanges became my normality and added to the camaraderie of the occasion.
This year, I got married, and I thought back to that first joint Christmas. I reflected on what my parents and step-parents achieved for themselves and for us, and how their care and kindness taught me so much about love. Next year, my husband and my brother's new wife will join us, shaking up the festive cocktail and reminding us that Christmas is never fixed.
