Jack Tame: 2022 sucked, but I for one cannot wait for Christmas

“Uncle Jaaack...”

“Yes, Ren?”

“I want to play Jonah.”

Jonah. It’s not chess! Basically I position myself in the middle of my sister’s lounge, resting on my knees. My nephew starts on one side of the room and has to try and run past me to score an imaginery try on the couch. My job is to tackle him three times out of four, but then to act bamboozled and let him slip through for glory.

His little sister Elsie is just at the age where she likes physical play, as well. Both of them are allowed to do jumps from the couch onto a bean bag. Skydiving in the lounge. I fly down on Monday. I can’t wait to see them.

2022 has been a lousy year. An economy rapidly souring, news headlines threatening nuclear war, and about three years’ of sickness wedged into one. Most of us have had Covid. Many of us have had multiple infections. There’s one guy in our office who reckons he’s had it four times so far. It might be at a different stage, but you couldn’t say the pandemic’s over.

I’ve had more loss this year than any other in my life. Family members, colleagues, and friends. My uncle passed this week. 2022 sucks. And for some families close to me, this is going to be a really tough Christmas.

I reckon recharging is a two part process: connection and disconnection.

Normally, I wake up every day and immediately feel compelled to reach for my phone. I scour the news headlines. I check my emails and social media incessently.

The first step in recharging is the disconnection. I try and break up with my phone. I turn off notifications and bury my emails and social media deep in an obscure folder, so it takes a longer, more deliberate effort to get there. With a bit of luck the compulsion will wane after a few days, and before too long I’ll be going ages without so much as glancing at my phone.

The second step is connection. Jonah with my nephew. The guinea pig village with my niece. I’ll play sous chef to Mum and music with my Dad. There will be backyard cricket with never-ending smack talk. My brother and I will drag our fattened Christmas rigs off for a couple of deeply unimpressive jogs in the bush. My girlfriend will gently tease me over Monopoly Deal.

Connection and disconnection. These are the things that make Christmas special for me.

And at the end of a trying year, I for one cannot wait.

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