I recently, through the experiences of someone else, had the opportunity to reflect on the merits of families. They are not something I’ve had any knowledge off, except when temporarily acquired through girlfriends.
I don’t have any family at all. No parents, no siblings and no off-spring. And it’s a demon which on the whole, stays dead and buried.
But once every few years it reappears. At the moment I’m going through a bit of ‘phase’ over the whole issue of families. I guess I want one. I want what I’ve missed out on all my life. I want a mother and a father. And I’m aware that at the moment, it’s actually making me not a very nice person. I’m depressed, moody, grumpy and most of all, very negative about everything. I think it’s worse, because I know I’ve got to deal with it on my own. There isn’t anyone that I can talk to or get help from. And now I’m beginning to hear folk talk, quite naturally, of Christmas.
I used to really enjoy Christmas. I was living with a lady and her child for several years. It would usually start with the school play and the carol service, then perhaps more carols as the day drew nearer. We loved doing the whole tree and decorations thing. Leaving the mince-pie and carrots out for Santa.
It was so much fun on Christmas morning (usually about 6am) to hear these excited squeals from her room as she found her sack of pressies from Santa. And so much family to visit and share with and eat with and swap pressies with.
All that’s gone now. All my life I’ve loved Christmas and now it’s gone. With no-one special to share it with, it’s empty. Last Christmas I was working on a pantomime through Christmas – even ended up standing in for Santa on Christmas Eve at the theatre. Christmas day was the only day off and santa spent it alone for the first time in decades. It’s a part of the curse of not having any family.
I know, we’re supposed to make the most of things and be grateful for what we have. But I can’t help but wish I was just part of a normal family.
But there are people a lot worse off than me. So Christmas Day will just be another day. It won’t be a bad day, just another day. I’ll have Christmas again one day. One day there’ll be a Mrs ‘X’ and maybe a little ‘x’ or two. And then Christmas will be perfect again.
At some stage I’ll get around to apologising to all the people I’m being rude and grumpy to. But I feel it would be pointless, until I’ve got over this again – at least until the next time.