Christmas day at sea dawned as clear and bright as anyone could wish for. The waves were smooth and the sun was out, it was windy, as usual, but that’s to be expected when you’re moving at a fair click. Which we are, as we head back towards Fort Lauderdale to drop off (most of) this contingent of passengers and pick up those who will be joining us to ring in the new year next week.
The only thing that marked this day different than any other this week were the children. The air practically vibrated with the energy from the children. We have nearly 200 kids on board, a large percentage of which are under the age of 10. Forget the whole serious concept of the ‘solar cycle, reason for the season’ etc etc, there was a lot of belief in a certain red-suited elf flying around the ship this morning.
Everyone dropped everything at quarter to ten, including me – which is saying something because today is one of my busiest days for returns – and wandered over to the showroom to watch the kids listening to carols. We were supposed to sing, but since no one else was, we ended up just listening too. The waitstaff break out the eggnog for today (the last of it will be used up at Christmas dinner this evening and by tomorrow there won’t be a drop left on board), and serve it in champagne flutes to anyone who comes through the showroom door. No, we don’t spike it, though there are some entertainment staff that wish we did by the end of the day. The cruise director makes several frantic phone calls to make sure that everything that can possibly be in place is in place, because if it’s not, we’re going t have some very disappointed children on our hands.
And then, the announcement bell breaks the silence, and everyone looks up. The staff of course, are acting, most of the guests though, haven’t sailed with us at Christmas before and don’t really know how we go about things. The announcement runs as follows:
Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the officer of the watch speaking from the bridge, please excuse this interupption. Our radar has just picked up an unidentified object in the skies nearby, heading in our direction. While we do not forsee any danger, we are currently investigating the situation and will keep you updated as necessary. Thank you and enjoy your morning.
This is about where I, being a sentimental sap, felt the tears spring up. There are, naturally, two announcements “updating” the guests on the situation after that. Until finally they run the video showing Santa making his way through the ship to the show lounge and he takes up residence on the stage to have pictures taken with all the kids. And any adults who feel like kids.
And any staff who also feel like kids.
Do you really need an answer to that question I know you just asked?
No, I haven’t put it on my wall yet.
Honestly, today didn’t offer a great deal of a chance to sit down, the Santa Ceremony takes up most of the morning, and after that we all gathered in the office to exchange our (not so secret) secret santa gifts. Much to my total surprise, the person who was buying for me actually put some thought into it rather than doing the typical dollar-store thing. He bought me Dead Sea Salt skin care stuff, heaven knows where he found it in Florida but I’m pretty sure there’s a shop somewhere nearby the port in Fort Lauderdale.
In the insanity of the day however, I was able to carve out a precious half hour to sit on the floor of my cabin , with the phone cradled against my shoulder, and open my presents “with” my parents. Yes, my family sends me presents when I’m shipside, not because they think I “need” anything (though I’ve utterly fallen in love with my new nurses’ watch), but because they know it does me so much good to get something from home when I’m so far away. And for that brief half hour, despite the fact that we’re miles apart, I was sitting on my own living room carpet, looking at my own tree.
It was very very precious.
There are those who ask how I can “do Christmas” when I myself do not follow the path of belief that goes with it (so to speak), I could make a lot of arguments about origins and mythology and things like that, but the truth is that it’s not about any of that for me. It’s really not. Christmas for me is about the little things, like sitting in the middle of the floor opening my presents with my family…
Anyway…
When I finally got back to the library, I managed to process about six hours worth of work in about two hour’s worth of time. Something I am justifiably proud of.
And they gave the officers and staff all Christmas dinner. For this one night of the year, we are treated as guests, though there is always mix ups in the orders, and they always manage to forget what appetizer you wanted, but that’s not the point. It’s the one day of the year where your supervisor’s don’t care if you’re scheduled for a 6pm shift and don’t actually start until 8. Tonight, we’re just people.
And I called my Sister…well, one of my Sisters. The other one is on ships herself, and that makes her somewhat difficult to contact. And believe it or not, I don’t have my big brother’s phone number.
What you really need on days like this is some kind of magic conference call that bypasses oceans and time zones.
But one phone card and two calls did for the most important people. And those of you who know you’re important, but didn’t get a call? You know I’m thinking of you, and the fact that I couldn’t phone might mean something as simple as I don’t have your phone number to hand…
And so it is that now that the Santa hats are packed away, the gingerbread finished and the last of the eggnog has disappeared…I find myself completely and utterly exhausted.
Goodnight Neverland…
And Merry Christmas…Happy Solstice…or whatever name you choose.
Bright Blessings
Shaughnessy
I didn’t put the star there.
You nut. You “are” the gift.