The Sum Total is Love ❤️

The nostalgia has been thick these past ten days.

Memories of childhood Christmases and long summer holidays have been flooding back, bringing with them so much joy, and a few tinges of sadness too. For those who are no longer with us. For times that can never be retrieved and live on only in photographs and remembered moments.

I’ve been thinking about endless hours digging sand tunnels at Hervey Bay with my siblings. Boogie boarding. Playing on the sand until we were hot enough for the next swim. The tap we washed our sandy feet under before crossing the hot bitumen road to walk back to my Gran’s house a few streets away.

The cold watermelon Dad would slice up when we got home.
The crumbed whiting my Gran cooked in the electric frypan in hot oil.
Her caramel tart. Corned meat fritters.

I remember Grandma’s plum pudding. Her fruit salad. The way she and Pop greeted us at the door when we had Christmas at their house. And the way my mum made every Christmas feel so special through all the little details. The presents she carefully chose. Her thoughtfulness. Her enthusiasm.

I couldn’t help reflecting on that this year as I selected and wrapped presents for our children.

Sometimes Christmas can feel commercial or superficial. But when I look beneath it all, I don’t think it’s really about the presents or the food. It’s about what sits behind them.

The love.
The intention.
The desire — which sometimes feels wobbly and exhausting — to make it special.

Yes, there can be a sense of performing at Christmas. But I think, more often than not, that performance is fuelled by love. A longing to fill the day, and the season, with care. To let love shine through food, gifts, decorations, handwritten cards, and all the unseen thinking behind the scenes.

When you add it all up, the sum total is love.

We recently took a short family holiday to Anglesea after the school term ended. I could feel myself wanting to make it as special as possible for our boys with new experiences, adventures, the beach, pool swims.

I have to watch I don’t slip into perfectionism.

Part of me wants to recreate what brought me joy as a child. And perhaps offering them these experiences is also my way of reconnecting with that joy myself. Ducking under waves. Splashing in salty water. Running up and down the beach. Hours of playing 1,2,3 home with the neighbour’s kids. Laughter, freedom, and simple pleasures.

My grandparents are gone now and I miss them more at this time of year.
Our family Christmases look different.
Siblings are scattered. Our individual families have grown.

And, as a mum, while I can feel dismayed at the pressure and expectations that come with the end of the school year which rolls straight into Christmas and the never-ending to-do list, I know that at the heart of it all is love.

Thank you for being here with me in 2025.

I’m wishing you a beautiful Christmas with those you love. And holding extra special thoughts for you if Christmas is a hard time. Amongst the nice bits it can be triggering, sometimes painful and a lot to navigate.

It’s okay to compromise.
And it’s also okay not to hold the mask up at your own expense.

Be aware of your thresholds around stimulation, expectations, and where you may be crossing the line into people-pleasing or performing.

Vulnerability can feel risky. But it’s also another way of fostering real connection. And that, too, is a gift to those you love.

With Christmas blessings,
❤️ Benita x