My Christmas Day as a member of a large family clan is a memory that can’t fade with the years. I had to greet dozens of aunts and uncles, cousins of all ages, a frail matriarch and robust and feisty matriarchs-in-waiting. And always a new baby to cuddle.

Food was enough to feed a barangay.

Stories told and retold enriched the family history.

And after lunch, the women settled around mahjong tables, while the men clustered for rounds of poker. While we children opened gifts, ate some more, and away from the adults, tried the taste of alcohol and cigarettes, and some gambling too, with playing cards and real money bets.

That went on till evening, broken only by merienda of thick chocolate drink and pastries. By about seven, everybody went back to the dining room to have more food and drink and stories of who won, who had the lucky streak, but never on who lost.

Laughter was our background music as there was no Bluetooth and Spotify playlists to play Christmas carols.

I didn’t know where the food was coming from but it never left anyone looking for more of something – mostly of the chocolate cake, icebox cake, and fruit salad.

That was when my great grandmother was still our frail matriarch; she lived till more than a hundred, but no one knew for sure because she also forgot the exact year she was born. When she passed, my grandmother was our matriarch, and we gathered around her dining table to continue the tradition of coming home for Christmas to be with family.

My mother and her seven siblings, with their families, all came. Plus, one or two families who lived in the same block which carried the family name – and stuck as our address. We all lived in that block, which actually occupied two streets. When I brought my son there decades ago, he remarked: “Wow, you lived like the Godfather’s family! There’s only one entrance and exit for vehicles and pedestrians.”

After my grandmother passed, each of my mother’s siblings continued the Christmas Day tradition with their own large families. And so, the Christmas gatherings became smaller, but soon increased in number as the children grew up, got married and had children of their own.

Today, family clans are often smaller. Jobs, studies, and migration have scattered relatives across cities, regions, and even countries. The large, bustling gatherings of the past have become more intimate celebrations, with fewer cousins, aunts, and uncles at the table. Yet, despite the changes in numbers, the essence of Christmas remains—reconnecting, giving thanks, and sharing joy with those who are near.

What is interesting now is how the Christmas table itself has evolved. While traditional dishes remain the core, the arrival of in-laws from other regions—or even from other countries—brings new flavors to the festive spread. Perhaps alongside the morcon, there is a dish from Pampanga or Ilocos, or a dessert inspired by foreign cuisine. These additions create a blend of culinary traditions that reflect the diversity of our modern families. Each new dish carries its own story, just as rich as the old ones, and reminds us that traditions are living, not fixed.

In the midst of smaller gatherings and new foods, the deeper meaning of Christmas continues to shine. It is a day to share, to express gratitude, and to nurture connections—whether those connections are long standing or newly formed through marriage and family blending. The warmth of being together, even in a smaller circle, can be just as powerful as the bustling clan celebrations of the past.

Looking back at those old Christmases, and observing the evolving traditions today, one realizes that family is not only about numbers. It is about presence, laughter, shared memories, and the simple act of breaking bread together. The Christmas table may change with time and circumstance, but the love, togetherness, and joy it represents remain timeless.

This Christmas, as we sit around tables adorned with both familiar and new dishes, let us celebrate not just the food or the rituals, but the enduring spirit of family that adapts, grows, and continues to bring us together—no matter how far life has scattered us. ([email protected])