Love is Actually All Around

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about that scene from Love Actually.

Well fine, it’s actually two—the specific scenes that bookend the film, voiceover-ed by Hugh Grant, that shows the arrival gate at Heathrow Airport. You know what I’m talking about, right?

Here’s a clip to jog your memory —>

Blame it on the Christmas season and the fact that the film has become quite a holiday classic—there’s no denying it’s a lovely film, that warms even the darkest of moods. But I’ve been thinking about these scenes for a very different and personal reason. Because these scenes should’ve been my family this Christmas.

It should’ve been my exhausted husband overladen with bags and me, carrying our son through the arrival gate at Heathrow and dashing into the arms of our family. Reuniting and returning to the U.K. and meeting our baby for the first time, before embarking on an epic holiday two years in the making.

Before the Pandemic kicked us all in the you-know-where, this year was always the year we were going to travel to my husband’s home for Christmas. We agreed very early into my pregnancy that we would spend our child’s second Christmas abroad—and try to do the same thing every other year. We’d make it a two-week trip—as it would likely be the first time we’d be back since having our baby—and even discussed renting a big house that was centrally located for the majority of the family, so everyone could come visit and meet the newest addition. I had this Christmas-movie fantasy built up in my head that even when Covid hit in 2020, I was still convinced that our plan would happen.

Everything would be fine by Christmas 2021. I told myself that every time my in-laws had to cancel their flights or push back plans to come visit in 2020 and well into 2021. 18-months was the long-haul goal to obliterate the virus. Surely we’d have this thing kicked by September, in time for us to book flights.

Right?

Unfortunately, no.

Yes, the world has leaped and bounded forward in their dealings with Covid-19. The vaccine has been rolled out, positivity rates have dropped tremendously, rapid tests are available at your local pharmacy, and restrictions have been lifted. Just last month, the travel-ban from European countries into the United States was lifted. Now, the booster is being administered—which promises added protection six-months after your second dose of the vaccine. So much has improved. BUT—as has always been the case—things seem to change on a weekly basis.

How many variants have popped up so far? I’ve lost count.

Plus, my 19-month old son is ineligible for the vaccine—and if you have an opinion on the vaccine, I DON’T CARE so please keep it to yourself—and I am also expecting, again.

Have I mentioned that yet? No? Okay…SURPRISE! BABY #2 ARRIVING IN MAY!

With all the unknown factors piling up, we decided its not the best idea to leave the country; contracting the virus abroad and getting stuck is too risky in our current situation. So we’re staying put for Christmas this year.

Which sucks.

Exponentially more because it’s been almost three-years between visits, our son has yet to meet a single U.K. family member—Facetime has been a God-send through all this craziness, but we’re afraid he won’t know what to do when Baba and Granddad try to hug him—we haven’t met our 18-month old niece, great-grandparents are only getting older, and…my husband just wants to step on U.K. soil. Have a bacon sandwich, or a good fish-and-chips take-away. A hand-pulled draft beer. A proper cuppa tea. A pile-on bear hug from all his childhood mates and family. Hell even the dreary weather would be nice!

Really, we’re just jealous of those who’ve been able to visit their families overseas this year, or the people who’ve been able to come to the U.S. from around the world. When the border restrictions were dropped in November, there was a huge influx of incoming flights to JFK from European countries—my husband and I very purposely avoided the viral videos and news articles describing the happy family reunions taking place at the arrival gate in New York. Because it’s something we want so desperately, but know it will be another 6-months until we have it (we’re now holding off visitors until Baby #2 arrives).

And you know what….that’s okay.

We know Christmas in the U.S. will still be Merry and Bright. We’ll Facetime our family like we always do; just in time for them to see the wonder in Wyatt’s eyes as he sees all the gifts under the tree. We’ll unwrap gifts together, and cheers to everyone’s continued health. It will be almost like the real thing—like we’re sitting in the room together and not an ocean apart.

And we’ll anxiously await our Love Actually moment.

Because it will happen in 2022.