My family had a big celebration last night. We ordered a lavish dinner (Italian food — Original Joe’s), the kids opened gifts, and we enjoyed a double chocolate cake for dessert, dropped off by my mother, in honor of this special occasion.
You might call it Christmas Eve Eve, but we call it Shaunakah. Or Shaunikah, or Shanica, or Shaunakkah, or... much like completely unrelated Hanukkah, there are various creative attempts of the spelling. I cannot tell you which is correct for our holiday because I don’t actually know.
Twenty-eight years ago, when yours truly and my sweetheart were high school seniors we wanted to celebrate Christmas together. As teenagers we were obligated to attend several family functions. We chose the 23rd to exchange our gifts to one another
Nearly three decades later the tradition has morphed into a grand holiday, acknowledged by people who know us — and it warms my stressed-out Christmas-preparing heart. I even received texts and from friends and family wising us a “Happy [no-duplicate-of-spelling]” day.
My mom delivered a gift basket of food (a beautiful collection of all the makings of a pasta dinner) and the cake. My husband selected a gift for the kids, and I worked for weeks to create a gift for each of them (a Shaunakah tradition). Even though one’s an adult and one is nearly so this will always be a part of Shaunakah, I hope.
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