Can you believe it’s nearly Christmas again? Mince pies are on the shelves and the garden centres are full of every combination of light up twig and singing creature you can imagine. Christmas lists must be written and family accommodated. I shall probably eat my own body weight in stilton and spend most of January regretting it, but hey – same old same old!
On the positive side 2018 can be boxed, locked and filed. This year has been a tough one for me and one I won’t be sorry to see the back of. My mum died in February and I was totally unprepared for the effect it would have on me. I felt like I was being followed by a tidal wave of grief that I kept telling myself I could outrun but threatened to break at any time in an all-consuming, oxygen steeling cloak with no warning and no way out.
My particular favourite crash was in Waterstones in Nottingham. Whilst browsing for a new book something triggered a memory that once released was like pressing fast forward on an old video. Images flashed into my brain that I had long since forgotten and rendered me incapable of breath or movement. Luckily posh book shops have lots of quiet corners where one is encouraged to sit and contemplate so I took advantage and sat. I’m not sure how long I was there, tears as big as apples nearly drowned me and I wasn’t sure that I was going to be able to stop. How could I be expected to function normally with this huge blackness surrounding me and how dare everyone else carry on around me without paying due respect to my pain and loss? But carry on they did so I did too. I collected myself, returned a now slightly soggy bestseller to the shelf and left the shop. I walked through Nottingham, amazed that others around me couldn’t see my burden and I made it to my car. I drove home and continued with my day, then the next one and then the next. So here we are eight months later and I’m planning my first festive season as an orphan!
But Christmas looms large. We all knew last Christmas would be Mum’s last so we made a massive effort and went all out on food, decorations, candles and cheer and whilst I am dreading my first Christmas without buying silly rubbish for Mum’s stocking or having a glass of sherry together I know I have to focus on the future, my kids, my wonderful husband, my new job and getting on with things.
So bring on the dancing Santas, the flashing baubles, the tinsel trimmed penguins and as many ho-ho-ho’s as you’ve got coz even though I really miss you Mum I know you’re still laughing at stupid cracker jokes and silly paper hats, and whilst the threat of that tidal wave hasn’t gone completely I have my life jacket firmly zipped up, my woolly hat with the reindeer horns on and I think I’ll be ok.
Life, as they say, goes on.