Born Between the Holidays

Born Between the Holidays 

by Madi A. 12/2025

Some birthdays arrive quietly. Mine has always lived between Christmas and New Year’s, a space filled with family gatherings, loss, love, and a story that took decades to fully understand.

Today, as I accept the many birthday wishes sent my way, I find myself reflecting on the birthdays that have come before. As a little girl, I often celebrated during our annual Albert family holiday reunion dinner. It was a lively, bustling affair that my parents helped organise upstairs in a local hall called Club Alouette. My father was part of the board that maintained the club, and every year it became the gathering place for our extended family.

It was always wonderful to see our relatives. Some travelled from Oshawa, Montreal, Noranda, and Timmins. There were nine siblings in total, though only four lived locally, along with my grandparents. The evening was a true potluck, tables filled with home-cooked dishes, music playing in the background, a bit of dancing, but mostly the joy of reconnecting and catching up on one another’s lives.

In the summer of 1974, my grandfather passed away. We were on a family vacation to the East Coast at the time. He was a native of Caraquet, New Brunswick, and it had always been his wish to return for a visit. As we approached Gaspé, Québec, he became unwell. We went to the emergency department of the local hospital, where he passed away within a day. Our trip was cut short, and we travelled the 1,600-kilometers home in just a few days. 

That Christmas, the family reunion dinner was organised once again, but without Grand Papa, the mood was different. Some cousins from out of town chose not to travel anymore. Still, the family continued the tradition of the annual Christmas reunion dinner for several years. In the mid 1980's, Grand Maman’s health had begun to decline, and the celebrations grew smaller, limited to the immediate family. Around that time, I began creating new traditions of my own, around Christmas, my birthday, and New Year’s.

I came to realise that having a birthday between Christmas and New Year’s Day was challenging. Making plans grew harder with each passing year, as life became busier with family responsibilities, children, work, and the everyday demands of living.

Yet behind the scenes, there was always a quieter, more personal reflection. I often thought of my biological mother, alone in a hospital, giving birth just two days after Christmas, and then making the heartbreaking decision of giving me up for adoption. I carried deep feelings for that moment, wondering how it shaped her life and how it echoed through every holiday season thereafter. Each year, the holidays brought a gentle reminder of that profound choice.

In 2003, I reunited with my sister, Darla. Within minutes, I learned that our biological mother had passed away in 1995. She had kept her holiday season secret until the mid 1980's, when she finally shared it with her daughter, my sister.

Since then, every year on my birthday, I pause. I take a moment to reflect on the choice my biological mother made so many holiday seasons ago, a decision rooted in love, sacrifice, and hope. And in that quiet reflection, I honour her.

Christmas 1972