UNDER A SPANISH SKY: A YEAR END FAMILY HOLIDAY

 

This year, the pull of family rewrote our holiday traditions. With two of my children now building their lives in Spain, the familiar comforts of home were beautifully exchanged for the vibrant, festive heartbeat of Madrid. Our year-end holiday became a pilgrimage of the heart, a journey to reunite under the Spanish sky and weave new memories in a city dressed in Christmas finery.

The moment we embraced at the airport, any miles between us vanished. Madrid welcomed us not just with open arms, but with a dazzling display of lights. The grand avenues, like Gran Vía, glittered with elaborate constellations of bulbs, while the elegant, centuries-old buildings—a majestic mix of Hapsburg grandeur and Bourbon refinement—stood proudly under a crisp winter sky. Our days began as a joyful convoy, exploring the iconic plazas, from the bustling Puerta del Sol to the grand Plaza Mayor, which had been transformed into a classic Christmas market. The scent of roasted chestnuts and churros dipped in hot chocolate filled the air as we browsed wooden stalls brimming with handmade ornaments, nativity figures, and festive trinkets.

The true magic, however, unfolded within the walls of my children’s apartment. This was the core of our journey: reclaiming the simple, sacred rituals of the season, together. We ventured out to choose a Christmas tree, its scent of pine instantly transforming their living room into a hub of festive nostalgia. Untangling lights, debating ornament placement (with the usual playful disagreements), and filling the space with laughter and familiar carols—it was in these moments that “home” felt vividly, joyfully present, transcending geography.

The culinary preparations were a delightful cross-cultural fusion. We blended beloved family recipes with Spanish classics. The kitchen became a chaotic, flour-dusted workshop of togetherness, preparing a Christmas Eve feast that featured both our traditional dishes and local delights . Sitting around the table, toasting to our reunion, was a profound reminder that the greatest gift was this shared table, this uninterrupted time.

After the whirlwind of Christmas Day—the gift-giving, the lingering meals, the contented exhaustion—the city offered me another kind of gift: the gift of solo discovery. With the children enjoying their own time, I ventured out to see Madrid through my own eyes. I wandered through the serene Retiro Park, visited the breathtaking Prado Museum at my own pace, and sipped café con leche in quiet corner cafés, simply watching the people go about their day.

Yet, Madrid in late December hums with a different energy, one that builds toward something. I discovered it in the passionate strum of a guitar at a tablao, where I watched flamenco live—the raw, aching emotion in the singer's voice, the percussive fury of the dancer's feet, a performance that felt less like entertainment and more like a shared, glorious catharsis. I was so grateful to spend New Year's Eve with a circle of wonderful friends. The night was simply filled with love and laughter, making for the most heartfelt and joyous welcome to the new year imaginable.

And I found it in the city’s sweet, festive heartbeat: the celebration of Reyes Magos. The storefronts filled with whimsical displays of the Three Kings, and every pastry shop proudly presented its Roscón de Reyes. I savored this special dessert, a crown-shaped brioche ring adorned with candied fruit, its soft interior hiding a lucky charm —a treat made only for these magical few days. Each buttery, orange-blossom scented bite was a delicious reminder that I had stepped into the rhythm of a local tradition.

The most unexpected adventure, however, was one I signed up for on a whim: a tango class. In a sunlit studio, surrounded by strangers, the focused intensity of learning the steps, the connection to the music, the stumble and recovery—it became a thrilling metaphor for this entire holiday: a step into the unknown, finding a new rhythm in a new place. For that hour, I wasn’t just a parent visiting kids, or a spectator at a flamenco show; I was a student, dancing simply for the joy of it. Madrid, in its generosity, had given me the space to be all of it.

Looking back, this holiday was a perfect tapestry of dualities. It was the boisterous, loving chaos of family, intertwined with the peaceful, personal exploration of self. It was the deep comfort of old traditions planted in new soil, and the exhilarating spark of creating brand-new ones. We went to Madrid to be together, and we succeeded spectacularly. But I also returned with a piece of Madrid for myself—a memory of light, of flavor, of family embrace, and the confident, joyful step of a tango beginner, forever linking this city to the Christmas my heart felt truly, completely full.

LA VIDA BELLA 💃