From packed living rooms in Bathurst to Christmas at sea in Belize, Border Pulse founder Dan Gray reflects on holidays across borders, family, and finding home in Lloydminster.
Over the past few months, I have become “the breaking news guy,” as one person kindly put it while I was standing at a scene.
I am fine with that. You’re support of this new endevour has been both overwhelming and the best present I could get this year, ( except for whatever my wife gets me of course ).
But as Christmas approaches, I wanted to slow things down for a moment and share something different. A few memories from nearly 45 years on this planet, and from seeing Christmas across borders, provinces and even oceans.
As a kid, Christmas often meant a long drive. Nearly 1,500 kilometres from the Toronto area to Bathurst, N.B., to spend the holidays with my mother’s family.
At one point, all 10 brothers and sisters and their kids made it home for the season, turning a small house into something closer to organized chaos.
Those trips are burned into my memory.
Sleeping bags on the living room floor. Sitting on the steps to eat Christmas dinner because the small house was filled to the brim. Opening presents in shifts on Christmas morning because there were so many kids, so many toys, and so many aunts, uncles and cousins packed into one place.
Walking rabbit snare lines with my grandfather, then being told I had to try the rabbit stew afterward. I do not recommend it.
Later in life, I was lucky enough to experience Christmas far from home. I spent one at sea on a cruise ship, visiting places like Honduras and Belize.
In Belize, I spoke with a local paramedic who told me that at the time, around 2016, there were only four defibrillators in the entire country.
Not one in every ambulance.
Not one in every hospital.
His Christmas wish was simple. More equipment. More resources. More of everything, so they could save more lives.
Because of the cruise industry, Christmas in port was treated like any other day. Christmas on the ship meant a good turkey dinner and live music, but it never quite felt right without snow.
Back home in Ontario, Christmas traditions were louder and sweeter.
Homemade donuts. Homemade chocolates. The adults made rum balls while the kids were very clearly not allowed to help. Somehow fitting 26 people into an apartment that was never meant to hold that many. Grandma’s green jelly, which needs no explanation if you know.
As I got older it meant fitting in Christmas with two families, my high-school-sweetheart turned wife’s and my own. All, the more love and spirt of the season to share.
Over the years, I also saw Christmas in places like Windsor, Sault Ste. Marie and North Bay. Different towns, same feeling.
Then came our first Christmas in Lloydminster.
Far from home. Just the two of us. That kind of distance can hit a little harder during the holidays.
But something else happened too. We found family here. Through church, through community, through people who simply showed up. As we have grown more rooted in Lloydminster, it has started to feel less like a place we moved to and more like home.
And that matters.
As we head into Christmas, things will slow down a little at The Border Pulse. Over the holidays, we will be operating primarily in alert mode, focusing on urgent and time sensitive updates and public safety information as needed.
There is also some exciting news ahead. In the new year, you will see a few design changes and a new tool added to help us bring you news as it happens. More on that soon.
For now, from my wife and I, we wish you a very Merry Christmas. Wherever you are spending it, and however you are marking the day, I hope it feels like home.
Read more: Opinion: Is Die Hard a Christmas movie?
Miss you so very very much maybe see you soon