Christmas that is so, if you’re big fan and don’t want to be bah humbugged look away now……..
The thing is, I’ve never really been a big fan to be honest. I don’t like Christmas Carols (except Oh Holy Night but that makes me cry), I’m not a big foodie so Christmas dinner is a bit lost on me, Christmas films are invariably nauseatingly saccharin and it seems to be 3 weeks of crazy for one day. Saying all that, I always made the effort because I know that other people love it; my husband was a huge fan and used to love cooking the dinner, paper hat atop his head and a glass of something in his hand.
Of course, he’s not here now. I don’t have to think about finding him the perfect present, something that will make his eyes light up and make him want to hug me tight and kiss me. I don’t have to think about buying a little something for my two cats because I lost them too. I don’t need to worry about buying presents for my parents because we decided to give the money to the hospice where he died instead.
He won’t wake me up at the crack of dawn Christmas morning, running around like a big kid and trying to find his apron so he can get on with food preparation. He won’t nag me about doing the washing up (he cooked after all), we won’t argue about what film to watch, he won’t fall asleep in front of the TV, having drunk too much at lunchtime. He won’t be asking for turkey sandwiches or another sweet or trying to convince me that it won’t hurt if he has a third mince pie. He won’t be giving me a present that I know damn well he bought at the last minute but, all the same, put so much thought into.
We won’t stay up late, hugging on the sofa, watching rubbish and scoffing chocolates. We won’t be going to bed together tired but happy and we won’t fall asleep in each others arms, each of us knowing that we are loved.
Instead I have the offer of going to Rome with my best friend as I did last year and the year before. I would spend Christmas and New Year with his friends and family who are all incredibly lovely and make so much effort……I’m dreading it. Everyone makes me feel welcome, they’re Italian so they try and feed me every five minutes and when I’m not being fed, someone is hugging me or telling me something I can’t understand…..I’m dreading it. I would probably laugh, drink too much, have far too many late nights and be drowned in a cacophony of endless chatter. During the day I’ll be with good friends, explore Rome, take motorbike rides though the beautiful countryside outside the city, take photos, drink the mind-blowingly strong coffee and eat cake….
And feel totally separate from all of it and more alone and more trapped than I feel at any other time of the year. You can’t escape from the jollity at Christmas and, if you’ve lost your husband, wife or partner, you can fully participate in it either because the best part of Christmas is sharing it with someone you love……..
I’m sorry that this is such a dismal, feeling sorry for myself post but this is the worst year yet for me and it will be the fifth without my husband; I don’t understand why it doesn’t get any easier……