FOR ME, Christmas came early this year - and what a glorious day it was.
With two lifeforms living out of town and working over the holiday period, they made that special effort to co-ordinate days off and treat their old mum to an early Christmas lunch, thereby sparing me the immediate expense of manuka honey, for which my left kidney is truly grateful.
It may not have been the Christmas fare that had long been the tradition in our family, but it was perfect nonetheless.
The stress of shopping, preparing and cooking and the pressure to meet expectations - many of which had been previously met by my mum - were all alleviated. No washing up was like the cherry on top!
The weather on Tuesday was gorgeous - sunshine, a gentle breeze and barely a cloud in the sky. Perfect for sitting outside and sipping on well-chilled bubbly.
The food was delicious, and our server, Ross, was both impressive and impeccable - but the true highlight for me, by far, was the company.
Yes, they had given me unexpected, lavish gifts but the one I appreciated the most was their presence. It was total and undivided and I wasn't forced to compete with cellphones, texting, tweets or pictures of our lunch dishes being posted on Instagram.
We shared not only food and drink but real conversation, old memories and laughter. It was the epitome of quality time and the making of new memories. What could possibly be better?
For me, this is the truest meaning of Christmas. The simplest of pleasures shared - #presencenotpresents.
Two of my sons were accompanied by their long-term significant others. It was like a bonus gift to see them so happy and in love.
Bathed in sunbeams and a healthy dose of vitamin D - albeit, a tad tipsy - it dawned on me how blessed I was.
My first ever without the withered old crone, I wasn't really looking forward to Christmas this year. Yet despite her loss, those I love most found a new way of making it worth celebrating again.
Unfortunately, not everyone is so lucky.
This time of year, more than ever, I find myself thinking of those who will become victims of the season.
I've lived in a couple of neighbourhoods where domestic violence and a strong police presence are, sadly, par for the course. Often fuelled by booze and/or the financial pressure of Christmas and the subsequent bills that come with it, I would frequently be woken by the sounds of violent arguments.
These are neighbourhoods where they have that unspoken code of keeping your nose out of others people's business ... often for your own safety. But, for me, it's easier said than done.
Should we call police because we're genuinely concerned, call them to absolve ourselves of guilt should things turn fatal or should we do it because it's the right thing to do? Consequences be damned!
I guess it comes down to our ability to live and be at peace with the choices we make at that critical time.
If you must put your hands on anyone, let it be in the form of an embrace. Wishing you a truly merry Christmas - #hugsnotthugs.
**Kate Stewart is a staunch advocate of common sense and three-ply toilet tissue, currently running amok in the city wearing a Santa hat and fake reindeer antlers - festive feedback to: investik8@gmail.com