Christmas time again

 

Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas, the tree, the gifts, the carols, all of it.  But, to be honest, I sort of lost interest in Christmas for a couple of years immediately following my parents’ divorce, but then after having Liam and Luka, things really perked up again and the tree was put up with more gusto than before and Boney M was played loudly from the 1^st of November.   

Last year was a very sad year as we planned our cross-continent move to Australia and everything was done for the last time, the last Christmas, the last New Year, the last supper, like a bunch of convicts being banned to, well Australia.  Well, that is how I perceived it in a bit of a self-induced haze.

Immediately following Christmas, the tree was dismantled and handed over to my mother-in-law who still had the first ever Christmas tree erected in the manger still smelling a bit like frankincense and having been chewed on by the cows present at that momentous occasion. 

So this year, despite it now being the 3^rd of December, we are still tree-less, Boney M has has not wished us a merry Christmas from the bottom of their hearts , no Christmas stockings were hung, to be honest, no gifts have as yet been acquired.  The older I get, the harder it is to actually get into the spirit of things.  There is something just a tad sad about Christmas and a fat man in a red suit, maybe I am getting cynical in my old (er) days and thinking of all those Christmases past, all the people we lost along the way.  Lost in more ways than one, sometimes it is people you just lost touch with, some more deliberate than others.

I think of all the homeless and hungry kids, and then wonder if I really must cook a chicken, a leg of lamb, every vegetable known to man and then some puddings and of course a brandy drenched cake.  Sometimes I feel like just drinking the brandy , sniffing the glitter, putting a Santa hat on my head and wrapping some old forgotten toys and pretending its new.  Kids aged one and four do not eat leg of lamb in any event, do they?

Then I pull myself together, take the tinsel off my head, stop fantasising about dropping the kids at my mother-in-law for Christmas, despite her now having a killer tree, and spending Christmas in bed with some brandy (we won’t have a cake if we don’t have kids, and its cognac, not brandy ok) and a good book and I just do Christmas.

You see, Christmas must not be over-analysed; Christmas is best experienced, preferably with some little people, who still believe in magic, elves and Santa Clause.  Christmas is a time for spending quality time with those near and dear to you.  Christmas is not about the leg of lamb, the gifts or the glitter.  And you know what, it is ok to be a tad sad too, to reminisce about the past, what could have been, what should be and to clear your head for the next year.

 

So leave me alone, let me be happy and sad, and yes, that is glitter on my face, you can’t keep a good woman down, off to buy some baubles and brandy, and who knows, because I have been very very good, I might get to sit on Santa’s lap and have all my wishes come true.