United in being apart: We're craving contact this Christmas, so stay in touch with the ones you love

Like most journalists I know, I've spent many Christmases away from home and in some less-than-perfect places. Some of those places were just remote and brutally cold while others were potentially harmful to my wellbeing.

I was always OK with that. Part of the game, I told myself.

Each newsroom had an "orphan's Christmas" party for those of us who were working over the holidays or couldn't get home because of the cost. Not having youngsters, I always volunteered to work over Christmas.

Those who had kids deserved to be home, to spend that time beneath the glow of the Christmas tree lights, caring for young hearts and nurturing great expectations.

My folks would have liked to have me home for Christmas, but they understood.

During my first Christmas in Newfoundland, I wrote a rather syrupy column about not being home and how Christmas greetings would have to be shared over telephone lines.

Not long after the column was published, the Christmas dinner invitations rolled in. It was an avalanche of kindness and indignation that someone might actually spend Christmas away from home. The sweetest invite came from the person who would each night clean the newsroom quietly while I pounded on the keyboard like a man possessed.

We had never spoken except to exchange pleasantries or, like all good Newfoundlanders, talk about the weather. But on that night she gently demanded that I reassure her I had a place to go for Christmas and if not, there was always room at her family's table.

Being home for Christmas is something in the bones of every Newfoundlander. Like instinct drives animals to migrate thousands of kilometres to mate, Newfoundlanders instinctively flock home for Christmas. They will risk life and limb and drive home in the fiercest of blizzards to sit around the tree with family.

Just to experience the full effect of Newfoundlanders' push to get home for the holidays, years ago I took the DRL bus across the island one Dec. 23. Young children, who only knew the first verse of Christmas classics, sang their hearts out and young lovers said goodbye for the first time as they climbed on the bus, their hands sliding apart and grudgingly letting go. It was a trip and a lesson about this place and her people I'll never forget.

The lessons this year are different

This year will also teach us things, but those lessons will be different and harsher because of COVID-19.

For those of you with a partner or family at home, this Christmas will be harder but it won't be impossible. For those who live alone, this Christmas might just be impossible, or seem so. The songs on the radio and the made-for-TV movies will make it that much harder to endure.

Christmas makes everything better whether that be the baking cooling on the kitchen table or the twinkling lights, but for some, it will also make things worse.

During the pandemic, the last 10 months have robbed us of loved ones and human contact. That feeling of being part of something grander by embracing another, even if it was just a brief hello.

During even the briefest of embraces, something is shared that words can't describe. Hugs allow us to share our happiness when our hearts are soaring and be consoled when our souls feel crushed and defeated.

There will be moments for some over the next few days when their loneliness runs so deep it becomes physically painful for them. They will find themselves crying at every holiday-themed commercial or weeping when some crooner sings about the sidewalks glistening and children listening for sleigh bells in the snow. Many will struggle to get through the next few days and beat back the emptiness that social media and TV only magnify.

Think about those in your life who may find themselves alone over the holidays and send them a text or better yet, give them a call.

Let them know that while you may be separated, they dwell in your thoughts and dance through your heart.

That one day soon you will be back together again during this special time and that hugs will again be frequent and laughter uncontrollable.

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