Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.
-Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.
I love Christmas. I adore the gaudy decorations, the sickly sweet films, the Christmas songs the radio insists on playing all day everyday. I love the excuse to spend time with your family, the careful buying of presents for people you cherish, the obligatory panic buying for the people you hadn't planned on getting anything for. I even love buying a toy for the dog knowing that he's going to be as excited as I feel, when he smells there's a rubber ball wrapped up for him.
This year I won't be able to do many of my usual traditions because I'll be doing a fourteen hour shift at work. Understandably my initial reaction to this news was one of severe disappointment, I wouldn't be able to share my Christmas with my nearest and dearest. That was until I realized this was my gift. I'm going to spend my day making it special for people who don't have family, or if they do family who can't come and visit them. I'll help make their Christmas dinner and I've spent the last several weeks lovingly buying gifts for them which I'll wrap and reveal to them on Christmas morning.
In a round about sort of way I think I'll be living the real meaning of Christmas and what's not to love about that?
Being single is always a funny one around Christmas time. That Mariah Carey song plays a million times a day and its difficult to not feel wistful.
Dear readers, I want to share something with you because in a weird kind of way your almost like friends now. I know that sounds strange but I get a lot of solace writing (almost) anonymously to you...
Around Christmas a few years ago me and my ex boyfriend, the surfer dude, experienced a great loss, which I suppose has shaped us immensely as people.
On a fairly uneventful day leading up to Christmas he came round my house and told me he was going to America because his father had passed away in a freak accident. Initially the shock of his announcement was so great that I thought he was joking, it was only when his mother came into the room (a lovely woman who I hadn't had the opportunity to properly meet), that I realized that surfer dude was being serious. I had five minutes to console the man I loved dearly, rush to give him his Christmas presents which he'd take with him and say goodbye not knowing how long he'd be in America for.
For the next month or so I was lonely and powerless. Surfer dude had needed to be fully there in his grief, he was away from communication so I spent my days worrying endlessly about him. Even though I knew he wouldn't reply I wrote to him everyday telling him about little things going on in Cumbria (where I was living at the time) and that I was thinking of him.
On his return, the immense love and the confusion of the situation made our first encounter awkward. He may has well have been made of glass, I didn't know how to help him or make things better. I now know grief is a process, it takes people time to fully come to terms with their loss. I was trying so hard to fix things that couldn't be mended by my hands alone.
Around Christmas I always tend to think of surfer dude. We split up a long while ago, I like to think because at the time we hadn't the energy after everything that had happened to us. Along with his loss, I was also caring for someone who was in an out of hospital so pretty engrossed in that, all the while trying to do my dissertation too. At that stage in our lives we needed time for ourselves to heal and come to terms with the chaos around us.
We are still friends to this day and a part of me will always love him.
Christmas is funny like that, it has a talent for making you nostalgic. It also is a great time for hope (I know, I know here she goes again going on and on about hope)! Around this time I started talking to my beloved Jemima, we conspired and gossiped about surfing until in our own separate heartbreaks decided to get on a train and go try to surf in Saltburn together.
The rest they say is history...
Until next time,
Stay strong, surf well
Love
-Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.
I love Christmas. I adore the gaudy decorations, the sickly sweet films, the Christmas songs the radio insists on playing all day everyday. I love the excuse to spend time with your family, the careful buying of presents for people you cherish, the obligatory panic buying for the people you hadn't planned on getting anything for. I even love buying a toy for the dog knowing that he's going to be as excited as I feel, when he smells there's a rubber ball wrapped up for him.
This year I won't be able to do many of my usual traditions because I'll be doing a fourteen hour shift at work. Understandably my initial reaction to this news was one of severe disappointment, I wouldn't be able to share my Christmas with my nearest and dearest. That was until I realized this was my gift. I'm going to spend my day making it special for people who don't have family, or if they do family who can't come and visit them. I'll help make their Christmas dinner and I've spent the last several weeks lovingly buying gifts for them which I'll wrap and reveal to them on Christmas morning.
In a round about sort of way I think I'll be living the real meaning of Christmas and what's not to love about that?
 |
| A poser picture of me by my mom's lovingly decorated Christmas tree! |
Being single is always a funny one around Christmas time. That Mariah Carey song plays a million times a day and its difficult to not feel wistful.
Dear readers, I want to share something with you because in a weird kind of way your almost like friends now. I know that sounds strange but I get a lot of solace writing (almost) anonymously to you...
Around Christmas a few years ago me and my ex boyfriend, the surfer dude, experienced a great loss, which I suppose has shaped us immensely as people.
On a fairly uneventful day leading up to Christmas he came round my house and told me he was going to America because his father had passed away in a freak accident. Initially the shock of his announcement was so great that I thought he was joking, it was only when his mother came into the room (a lovely woman who I hadn't had the opportunity to properly meet), that I realized that surfer dude was being serious. I had five minutes to console the man I loved dearly, rush to give him his Christmas presents which he'd take with him and say goodbye not knowing how long he'd be in America for.
For the next month or so I was lonely and powerless. Surfer dude had needed to be fully there in his grief, he was away from communication so I spent my days worrying endlessly about him. Even though I knew he wouldn't reply I wrote to him everyday telling him about little things going on in Cumbria (where I was living at the time) and that I was thinking of him.
On his return, the immense love and the confusion of the situation made our first encounter awkward. He may has well have been made of glass, I didn't know how to help him or make things better. I now know grief is a process, it takes people time to fully come to terms with their loss. I was trying so hard to fix things that couldn't be mended by my hands alone.
Around Christmas I always tend to think of surfer dude. We split up a long while ago, I like to think because at the time we hadn't the energy after everything that had happened to us. Along with his loss, I was also caring for someone who was in an out of hospital so pretty engrossed in that, all the while trying to do my dissertation too. At that stage in our lives we needed time for ourselves to heal and come to terms with the chaos around us.
We are still friends to this day and a part of me will always love him.
Christmas is funny like that, it has a talent for making you nostalgic. It also is a great time for hope (I know, I know here she goes again going on and on about hope)! Around this time I started talking to my beloved Jemima, we conspired and gossiped about surfing until in our own separate heartbreaks decided to get on a train and go try to surf in Saltburn together.
The rest they say is history...
Until next time,
Stay strong, surf well
Love
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