Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
“Bah humbug!” Sorry, did you offer me a humbug? Yes please, I’ll take two!
It’s ‘that’ time of year again when all those without families can, if they’re not careful, fall into darkness, where mood overtakes rationalisation and people stop seeing outside themselves to feel joyful and fulfilled. Outside the religious aspect, I think most of us would agree that Christmas is for children, as children perhaps enjoy it the most. But, I think you have to look at it differently in order to appreciate that it’s a time of year when, as an individual, you have a real opportunity to reach out to total strangers and find that human connection.
We all get hung up on the cost, often citing that as an excuse (my small Dachshunds are starting to count how many treats they’ve hidden under cushions or, and I’m cringing here, at the bottom of my bed!), but it’s really not about that. For many periods of my life, money has been a real issue, but I’ve always been lucky enough to work my way out of it by doing more than one job. Now I’m retired and on a fixed income, I think it’s about being a bit savvy.
Talking with a student just the other day who was worried about buying gifts for her siblings, I suggested using charity shops, where wonderful things can be purchased at small prices. I also suggested spreading the cost over 12 months (like I do, just buying one thing for one person each month), or just being realistic. A £3 bottle of very decent perfume from a well-known supermarket or a bar of Cadbury Dairy Milk (other manufacturers available) tied up with a bow won’t break the bank but will send a message of love and thoughtfulness to a family member or friend.
Then there’s the dinner! It’s just a Sunday roast when all is said and done and, personally, I never splurge out on food (most of which would end up being fed to the dogs). I might give myself the odd treat, but whilst I genuinely enjoy my Christmas dinner, it’s really no different to any other Sunday lunch, the one exception being I might have a pudding.
When you live alone, what you learn to really enjoy about Christmas are the smiling faces, the beautiful shop displays and lights, Christmas trees singing out of sitting room windows, and hedges festooned and twinkling. I love taking the dogs out just after dark to look at the beautiful efforts people go to while taking in the smell of woodsmoke in the air, shiny baubles, the bright red of holly berries against the green, starlight, and glittering fairies, brandishing their silver wands.
For me, this time of year is about the giving and the bringing of joy. And through this, being both seen and reminding oneself of one’s own worth. What is it they say? “If you can’t love yourself, you can’t love someone else!” I don’t mean this in an arrogant way, but simply that every time you help someone else, you help yourself. You give your self-esteem a little fluffy, sparkly boost that wakes up all those little endorphins, encouraging them to don their paper hats and get dancing to Fairytale of New York.
Personally, I like to save little amounts throughout the year so that at Christmas I can always buy at least two Christmas dinners for the Salvation Army but, that said, time is as valuable as money – if not more so. Visiting a local dog sanctuary to dish out cuddles is a great thing to do, as is contacting a soup kitchen or the local hospital to visit someone stuck there over Christmas to share a conversation or read to them – my copy of A Christmas Carol is very well thumbed.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m really lucky, I know I am. I have great friends who always invite me into their family home on Christmas Day, and this is extended to my furry friends (I’m just praying my dog, Bear, won’t cock his leg up on the Christmas tree and short-circuit the lights!). But, like everything else, you get out what you put in. I actively work all year on being a ‘good friend’ to others, even when sometimes that’s hard as I recognise that I can be very opinionated and constantly need to work on myself in that regard.
People forget that when you live on your own you don’t have people to correct you, pull you up on what you say, or make you stop and think by challenging your opinions. With the best will in the world, mini Dachshunds, in spite of their anticlockwise whorls and clearly superior intelligence, don’t speak up and reign in your excesses! I’ve learned, though, that the best thing is to try to just be there, to listen, rather than speak, and to be kind and patient, even when inside you might be desperate to do the opposite. What is it they say? “You catch more bees with honey than vinegar,” and oh how true that is!
Laying in bed this morning in the darkness with a cup of tea, ruminating on what I need to do this week, and summoning up the Christmas spirit as we move into December, I imagined greeting my own Christmas ghosts. Naturally, me being me, I quite fancy the idea of one wandering around moaning and dragging long chains that clank and chime behind him. But, as Marley (in A Christmas Carol) represents memory, truth, and hope, mine is far more likely to be skipping along, manoeuvring a dozen dog leads with a variety of large and small dogs and cats skittering around, all snuffling along and hunting for treats.
The Ghost of Christmas Present would have to be represented by a cosy sock. A small ghost, yes, and perhaps a bit darned and threadbare in places but, nevertheless, warm, comforting, and familiar, pootling about quietly humming to itself, getting on with life.
As for the future, well, who knows? Life’s adventures never cease if you open yourself up to them. OK, they might get a bit more humble and less extravagant in some ways, but in others, they’re perhaps even larger than when we were young because they’re full of joy. I find so much pleasure in the small things, things I barely noticed before, like birdsong, a butterfly’s chrysalis, or the sound of singing in the wind.
I think my ghost of ‘yet to come’ would have to be huge – my own giant marshmallow man. There’d be a mismatch of blue skies, soft winds, sunshine, and flora all twirling around like autumn leaves inside him and, let’s not forget, there’s bound to be two mini Dachshunds skipping about, mindlessly shouting just so you know they’re there! I’m OK with that and I’m looking forward to meeting them all, to bring in the Yuletide together without a humbug in sight!
A festive Willow and Bear!
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