When we finally sat down to eat, I made a strategic decision to avoid the bacon sandwiches. I stuck to the salmon, fresh bread and snacks and found myself watching, with a morbid sort of curiosity, as Mum polished off sandwich after sandwich.
Read MoreHe wasn’t paying attention. He’d just flicked the TV on as he’d sat down. A bit of noise to fill up the empty room. Christmas certainly wasn’t doing the job. It was stillborn this year. He’d tried his best to put the tree up, but the branches weren’t spread as nicely as they normal and the lights were a mess. It didn’t help that he had no idea where anything else went, so he’d left all the other decorations in their tired, old cardboard box. Although it wasn’t the fault of the season that the house seemed hollow. It’d felt this way since she’d died.
Read MoreThings are getting hectic, they always do at this time of year. It’s like being trapped on a merry go round that refuses to slow down. Every time we ask someone to apply the brakes, it only accelerates. Sure, there are festive lights and catchy tunes circling around us, but this close to the event horizon of Christmas Day it all starts to get out of hand. The music deafens us. The motion makes us feel ill. The horses under us start to leer and grin as it all lurches past our control.
There are cards to write, presents to deliver. There’s food to hunt and gather, sometimes against shoppers who are racing against the exact same clock as us to the exact same shelf for the exact same final box of stuffing. The season of goodwill can get pretty nasty down a supermarket aisle.