A Christmas memory never to be repeated. |
Waking up on Christmas morning, all bleary eyed and still hung over from the previous night's shenanigans, I'd wander downstairs where dad would cheerily wish me Merry Christmas, and I'd probably grunt some similar greeting back. I never have been a morning person and of course as an adult Christmas didn't seem so much fun, I mean it was all about parties and drinking as far as I saw it these days. Anyway, I digress. Mum and dad would both be wide awake and eagerly waiting for me to unwrap the presents in my stocking ....yes, my mum insisted on me having a stocking every year up to a couple of years ago, I think it was something they really enjoyed doing together. I never saw that then. Each year I'd think to myself I must tell mum I'm too old for this. I never did though ...I mean, I never went out of my way to hurt mum's feelings and I knew it would. Christmas Day was always busy in our house. My sisters and brother and their other halves and in more recent years my younger sisters' adorable kids would come round, not forgetting my mum's five or six dogs as well. Dinner would be extremely late, my mum and I would invariably cross swords about something at some point, fun and laughter at the dinner table, Top Of The Pops on television (the only thing we'd watch on Christmas Day) ...then of course the highlight was after dinner. My dad would take on Father Christmas duties and would sit by the Christmas tree (always a real one) and distribute presents to us all ...of course, this involved much hilarity as he insisted on trying to read the labels without his glasses on. We'd all be counting our presents and murmering things like "I'm a couple short" or "Have I had anything from Lucy yet?". It would be something like 8pm before we'd be finished and then after a bit of a rest and of course a bit of a play with the kids toys, we'd be onto things like Trivial Pursuit or Pictionary ...or some other such board game ....lots of laughter and competitiveness until the early hours. Writing this, I kind of think our Christmas was as traditional and 'picture postcard' like as you could get. Really happy times. After everyone had gone, as I'd be going up to bed, my Dad would utter the words he said every Christmas, "I think we've all done really well this year", and I'd mutter something back probably thinking can't you think of another line. The thing is, it's those small things in life we take for granted. My dad will not utter those words again and Christmas has changed forever .....sadly he died eighteen months ago. Hidden in the sad ending to this is a meaningful message. Make the most of what you've got. It won't always be there. |