This shy little shepherd reminded me recently that it was soon to be 1st December and he was yet to receive his advent calendar. He’s now 17 and I guess was reminding me that you’re never too old for an exciting countdown and a chocolate for breakfast. (Before you all call him a spoiled brat, I also asked him what he would like for Christmas and he replied ‘I don’t really need anything’)
For many of my single parenting years, 1st December came with a sense of dread for me. I was lonely, tired and skint. I worked hard to make memories for the children but really what I wanted to do was put my head down and make it through to January 2nd when all the enforced jollity would stop and I could get back to normal. (Which was being lonely, tired and skint) It was a painful time for me and all I wanted for Christmas was to survive.
I’m in a very different place now, the years have gone by and so have the Christmases. I have happy childhood Christmas memories to look on and now the children now grown up I find it endearing that they still look to their childhood Christmas traditions we instilled. Things are going to be different for us this year as this is the first Christmas in 25 years when Miss Lashes won’t be with us and Orkney Beef will be working a 12-hour shift. But we have each other, and a warm home and the knowledge that we will be together soon after if not on an actual day. We have much to look forward to, but I never forget my difficult years and am always mindful of people for whom Christmas is a harsh reminder that things are anything but the season to be jolly. Whatever your expectation, hopes and dreams I hope you enjoy the month ahead.
PS. My son got his advent calendar. I managed to bag the last one in the shop.