Christmas Without the Complete Set

The Sunshine Coast welcomed Sal and Grannie with familiar warmth, their road trip concluding with a day to spare before Mackenzie's birthday celebrations. The timing felt deliberate rather than lucky, allowing bodies to recover from highway hours before festivities demanded energy and presence.

Sophie's flight from Canberra touched down the following evening, her arrival at the airport marking another thread of our scattered family weaving back together. Sal collected her with the particular joy that comes from reuniting with adult children whose lives have grown their own orbits. Together, mother and daughter embarked on a road trip north for Mackenzie's birthday, the journey itself becoming part of the celebration.

The Priest family Christmas gathered at the RSL Club on the twentieth of December, a venue choice that delivered twin gifts: delicious cooked meals and zero washing up afterwards. Plates arrived laden with traditional fare, and empty dishes disappeared without requiring anyone to stand at a sink. The whole family filled their corner of the club with conversation and laughter, generations mixing across the table in the particular chaos of holiday gatherings.

Yet two chairs remained empty. Anth, still confined within Melbourne's clinical facility, and Torrin, making his way south along New Zealand's TA track, existed only as absent presences felt most keenly by Sal. The sadness surfaced unbidden between courses, in moments when a joke would have landed perfectly for Anth's sense of humour, or when adventure stories would have prompted Torrin's knowing nod. Still, the connections that were possible provided their own richness. Sophie and Mackenzie drew Sal into conversations that reminded her why these gatherings mattered, their presence filling some of the space that distance had created.

The days at Grannie and Grandad's settled into comfortable routine. Morning walks became ritual, feet finding familiar paths while conversation wandered wherever it pleased. Coffee dates punctuated afternoons, café tables hosting the kind of unhurried talk that only happens when time feels abundant. Retail therapy addressed practical needs as summer clothing supplies required topping up, the Queensland heat demanding wardrobe adjustments after months of Victorian layers.

Christmas shopping consumed an afternoon at Sunshine Plaza, the three generations navigating crowds with shared purpose. Bags accumulated as gift lists shortened, each purchase representing someone loved, someone who would unwrap these choices in mere days.

Evening brought the Priest family tradition that Sal treasured most. Sophie, Grannie, and Sal gathered with wrapping paper, ribbons, and scissors while Deck the Halls played on the television. This annual ritual transformed gift preparation from chore into ceremony, the familiar movie providing soundtrack to flying scissors and creative bow construction. Laughter punctuated the rustling of paper as wrapping disasters were rescued and triumphs admired.

Through it all, Sal's thoughts drifted south to Melbourne, where Anth counted down his own days of confinement. His return drew closer with each sunrise, Christmas Eve circled on mental calendars as the moment when their separation would finally end. The trial that had kept them apart would soon release him, and their story would resume its usual rhythm of togetherness.

Until then, these Sunshine Coast days offered their own gifts: family gathered despite incomplete numbers, traditions maintained across generations, the particular sweetness of anticipation sharpening appreciation for what was present while honouring what was missed.Read more