salut

There you are, on a train, a bus, a plane, heading to in-laws, friends, relations, and with so many thoughts in your head. The delay on the train, bus or plane. Do iI want to be doing this, going there, at all? The confuddle rising in your head. What will I find beyond what I found before? How will I be judged, accepted? Do I have the right gifts, or, horribly, the absolute wrong gifts, and how will I feel if I see that disappointment? Oh I remember all of this.

And then I grew up. Took me 50 odd years btw. Christmas is not about scoring, even if it still sings that song. I wonder if, with old age, I learn things I wish I had learned at 40,50. In the childhood of a parental life, in the scurvy of tradition within a family, we can become lost, feeling fat and inconsequential and almost invisible. I remember that, too.

Thankfully, I am now beyond all of this, but, and but, again, I still want to give the right thing. This year I cannot, like most of us. I do think of those young parents with wide-eyed children who hope for a new bike, an iPad, roller blades or whatever is the thing out there now, and I wince for you. You know about January and February bills, you know the cold, the trimester of the year, all ice-toothed and with no compassion.

But, and however, for now, we have Christmas and it’s all about lights and fun and Father Cristmas. The aftermath will be as it is. Let us dance in the Present. Salut. x

It took a while. She wasn’t well for a while but inside that ‘while’ she stayed lively and strong.

Now she is gone. Too soon, too young, behind me by two decades, ages with my own children.

It snaps me. Confounds me. And then I land and allow. She was a light. Now her light has gone out.

It is a shame and a longing hand reach for her friends who remain on the land of life. Watching her float away is tough.

But let her go. She was light and lively and red blood rebellion. She thought to gift at times when nobody else thought. She came when nobody else did. She was not afeared in the face of sickness or decay. She came. She always came. And now we need to free her.

Salut my lovely woman