"I love Christmas" is what I say... only I don't.

I find it intensely sad and depressing. Of course, I enjoy moments and the day is great in many ways.. but, as well as the final few days at work being very lonely every year, I find the weight of the past and the overbearing awareness of the passing of time too much to bear. Christmas reminds me of my childhood. We have always had a very particular kind of Christmas day, with set family traditions that have been passed down. That makes it worse. We continue them, but all that does is, as I say, bring home the cycle of time, the fall into loss, the fact that my childhood has long gone, my relatives have passed away, or, in the case of cousins with whom we'd spend the day, have drifted away, as happens. The nostalgia, wistfulness, and sense, looking at my kids, that this brief period of childhood Christmasses will soon be the past and a memory for them as well... are just utterly overwhelming. Every year.

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Lovely piece Nick.

Yes we shouldn’t forget that not all look forward to Xmas and many, many people find the festive season just too much to bear. Lest we forget those who suffer at this time of year.

Christmas is always particularly difficult for those who have been bereaved at some point during the preceding year, and it is thosen people in such circumstances who are always foremost in my mind at this time of year.

A cousin of mine lost her husband three months ago; he was only 59 and his 60th birthday would have been a couple of days after this coming Xmas. This festive season id going to be pretty hard for her I'm sure. Also, a girl I knew at high school and whom I am still in contact with on FB lost her wee girl just after Easter this year aged only three-and-a-half; she had been born with a life-limiting brain condition I think and had not been at all well just before her passing. I'll be thinking of them both this Christmas.

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Lovely piece Nick.

Seconded. It was expressed beautifully. 

 

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Christmas is always particularly difficult for those who have been bereaved at some point during the preceding year, and it is thosen people in such circumstances who are always foremost in my mind at this time of year.

A cousin of mine lost her husband three months ago; he was only 59 and his 60th birthday would have been a couple of days after this coming Xmas. This festive season id going to be pretty hard for her I'm sure. Also, a girl I knew at high school and whom I am still in contact with on FB lost her wee girl just after Easter this year aged only three-and-a-half; she had been born with a life-limiting brain condition I think and had not been at all well just before her passing. I'll be thinking of them both this Christmas.

The wife lost her mother on the 17th December last year Dave having been misdiagnosed and was suddenly found to have terminal cancer with days to live. it was traumatic to say the least and both her and more so our daughter have found it an increasingly difficult period.

"I love Christmas" is what I say... only I don't.

I find it intensely sad and depressing. Of course, I enjoy moments and the day is great in many ways.. but, as well as the final few days at work being very lonely every year, I find the weight of the past and the overbearing awareness of the passing of time too much to bear. Christmas reminds me of my childhood. We have always had a very particular kind of Christmas day, with set family traditions that have been passed down. That makes it worse. We continue them, but all that does is, as I say, bring home the cycle of time, the fall into loss, the fact that my childhood has long gone, my relatives have passed away, or, in the case of cousins with whom we'd spend the day, have drifted away, as happens. The nostalgia, wistfulness, and sense, looking at my kids, that this brief period of childhood Christmasses will soon be the past and a memory for them as well... are just utterly overwhelming. Every year.

 

I find the matter of pondering on loss and the passage of time (and how increasingly quickly my life seems to be hurtling towards its inevitable end) to be overwhelming, also.

If I let it.

What I sort of inadvertently developed is a 'closed door' mentality. It's like I keep the deeper thoughts of loss/time passing behind a sturdy door. I can think about them on a fairly superficial level and consciously recognise the feelings and intellectually understand the matter. But if I open that door, the one which lets the emotionality of it flood out, it's like a huge roar through my brain. I always slam the door shut. I don't know what would happen if I let the door stay open and I confronted the rush of emotions, allowed them wash over me, but I fear what it would do to me. So I don't let it.

I've mused that it wouldn't do anything, really. That what I think through now [in terms of loss/passage of time] is the full extent and I've just constructed some artificial bogeyman and a door to lock him away behind.

I certainly never used to feel anything like this; in fact I used to think I'd go on forever, and had only a [deliberately?] vague notion of loss. It's crept up on me slowly.

And I guess not helped by a) a sense that I'm still waiting for my life to start (which in one way is understandable in one respect, as I've kind of stumbled through life without much of a plan or knowing what I wanted to do [that is within my control and achievable], but on the other hand, I look at what I have and realise it's a hell of a lot of what I would realistically have wanted when I was young); and b) an unwavering belief that there is no sort of afterlife or soul or god or any of that stuff, that we're just incredibly complex biological machines that have evolved through mutation & natural selection (is consciousness and thought a mutation? of course it is, I reckon)

As for Xmas itself, I have developed, mainly from moving in with Mrs S, an incredibly stylised understanding of what I think it is and should be. Rarely does it live up to that 'perfect Xmas' vibe (although when it does, I'm like a giddy child). I'm also too busy and hectic to let disappointment get too much of a hold, which I think is very much a blessing.

The one time, however, that I do have to battle to keep that door closed, is NYE. Hate this with a passion, and it goes right back to being a teenager and the realisation that the spirit of bonhomie-inspired jubilation (and hopefully a bit of debauchery!) that I assumed from seeing places like Trafalgar Square on telly when I was little, was all a façade, a lie. In the years since, I've tried all sorts - local pub, town centre pubs, nightclubs, house parties, family-themed events - and with precious few exceptions, they've left me with a feeling of wry disappointment. For most of the last couple of decades, we've stayed in, sometimes with friends (if I'm honest, I can't wait for them to sod off usually), sometimes just us as a family. And that's what we're doing this year. Quiet night in with the family - although we've had two lots of friends asking us what we're doing and I'm expecting them to float the idea of them 'popping round, maybe', which means staying for the evening. But so be it.

There is, despite all I've written above, a bit of a shadow lurking and getting more prominent. I lost my brother 5 years ago, and that was tough (but I sort of deflected my own grief to help my parents get through it). My parents are still here (Mrs S lost hers in 2011 and 2016) but that won't be the case forever, and they're 81 and 77. Still both very active and with no known serious conditions (although my mum's showing signs of drifting towards dementia). When one (and especially both) of them goes, I have a feeling that door on mine is going to struggle to hold.

Wow, never expected to write more than a couple of paras, so apologies if I've bored anyone.

Nick, I hope you are able to wrestle your own overpowering negative feelings behind your own door and keep them locked away. Enjoy your time with your wonderful kids and wife. Don't let external factors (political!!) over which you have no control have too much bearing (stay away from the 'B' topic, and out of UIA would be my advice). Just go with life. Appreciate what you do have. And be thankful that you weren't born in the middle ages, where life was pretty rubbish.

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I find the matter of pondering on loss and the passage of time (and how increasingly quickly my life seems to be hurtling towards its inevitable end) to be overwhelming, also.

If I let it.

What I sort of inadvertently developed is a 'closed door' mentality. It's like I keep the deeper thoughts of loss/time passing behind a sturdy door. I can think about them on a fairly superficial level and consciously recognise the feelings and intellectually understand the matter. But if I open that door, the one which lets the emotionality of it flood out, it's like a huge roar through my brain. I always slam the door shut. I don't know what would happen if I let the door stay open and I confronted the rush of emotions, allowed them wash over me, but I fear what it would do to me. So I don't let it.

I've mused that it wouldn't do anything, really. That what I think through now [in terms of loss/passage of time] is the full extent and I've just constructed some artificial bogeyman and a door to lock him away behind.

I certainly never used to feel anything like this; in fact I used to think I'd go on forever, and had only a [deliberately?] vague notion of loss. It's crept up on me slowly.

And I guess not helped by a) a sense that I'm still waiting for my life to start (which in one way is understandable in one respect, as I've kind of stumbled through life without much of a plan or knowing what I wanted to do [that is within my control and achievable], but on the other hand, I look at what I have and realise it's a hell of a lot of what I would realistically have wanted when I was young); and b) an unwavering belief that there is no sort of afterlife or soul or god or any of that stuff, that we're just incredibly complex biological machines that have evolved through mutation & natural selection (is consciousness and thought a mutation? of course it is, I reckon)

As for Xmas itself, I have developed, mainly from moving in with Mrs S, an incredibly stylised understanding of what I think it is and should be. Rarely does it live up to that 'perfect Xmas' vibe (although when it does, I'm like a giddy child). I'm also too busy and hectic to let disappointment get too much of a hold, which I think is very much a blessing.

The one time, however, that I do have to battle to keep that door closed, is NYE. Hate this with a passion, and it goes right back to being a teenager and the realisation that the spirit of bonhomie-inspired jubilation (and hopefully a bit of debauchery!) that I assumed from seeing places like Trafalgar Square on telly when I was little, was all a façade, a lie. In the years since, I've tried all sorts - local pub, town centre pubs, nightclubs, house parties, family-themed events - and with precious few exceptions, they've left me with a feeling of wry disappointment. For most of the last couple of decades, we've stayed in, sometimes with friends (if I'm honest, I can't wait for them to sod off usually), sometimes just us as a family. And that's what we're doing this year. Quiet night in with the family - although we've had two lots of friends asking us what we're doing and I'm expecting them to float the idea of them 'popping round, maybe', which means staying for the evening. But so be it.

There is, despite all I've written above, a bit of a shadow lurking and getting more prominent. I lost my brother 5 years ago, and that was tough (but I sort of deflected my own grief to help my parents get through it). My parents are still here (Mrs S lost hers in 2011 and 2016) but that won't be the case forever, and they're 81 and 77. Still both very active and with no known serious conditions (although my mum's showing signs of drifting towards dementia). When one (and especially both) of them goes, I have a feeling that door on mine is going to struggle to hold.

Wow, never expected to write more than a couple of paras, so apologies if I've bored anyone.

Nick, I hope you are able to wrestle your own overpowering negative feelings behind your own door and keep them locked away. Enjoy your time with your wonderful kids and wife. Don't let external factors (political!!) over which you have no control have too much bearing (stay away from the 'B' topic, and out of UIA would be my advice). Just go with life. Appreciate what you do have. And be thankful that you weren't born in the middle ages, where life was pretty rubbish.

A powerful post, Saint. Thank you for writing it.

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"I love Christmas" is what I say... only I don't.

I find it intensely sad and depressing. Of course, I enjoy moments and the day is great in many ways.. but, as well as the final few days at work being very lonely every year, I find the weight of the past and the overbearing awareness of the passing of time too much to bear. Christmas reminds me of my childhood. We have always had a very particular kind of Christmas day, with set family traditions that have been passed down. That makes it worse. We continue them, but all that does is, as I say, bring home the cycle of time, the fall into loss, the fact that my childhood has long gone, my relatives have passed away, or, in the case of cousins with whom we'd spend the day, have drifted away, as happens. The nostalgia, wistfulness, and sense, looking at my kids, that this brief period of childhood Christmasses will soon be the past and a memory for them as well... are just utterly overwhelming. Every year.

Is it not also a time to set new traditions that your own children might take with them?

We had a very traditional Christmas when I was a child, most of our relatives came to us and we stayed in our Rupert the Bear jimmer jammers until mid morning. When I look back I cherish the memories of playing out in the street with the kids on new bikes or scooters and the boys that got the latest 1st division replica ball etc, I also remember that a few of those Christmases had snow or at least deep penetrating frosts. 

Things may well have been much simpler then but I also enjoy the way we celebrate Christmas now and I know that the kids are making memories like mine...yes time moves, things change, we share Christmas day now with family and friends that are like family to us, but not all change is a bad thing and I fully embrace the change whilst looking fondly upon the past. 

I can certainly understand the melancholy Nick, but I find it sad that you can't take comfort in the fact that whilst time marches on, we can still take time to sit and reflect with happiness rather than sadness.

I sincerely hope you can find a way to see the celebration in the traditions and the history you have and I wish you a truly wonderfully, and memorable, festive season.

 

Even if you are wrong about Brexit

 

 EDIT, posted at the same time as Saint...I wish I had waited a little longer and just said...ditto

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I’m with you Saint in NYE, hate the falseness of it all. As for Nick it’s obviously a very difficult time for him but he need not suffer alone there’s countless helplines for such, sometimes just venting how you feel in here can be a release from the stresses of daily life. I assume Nick has a good family network surrounding him and it’s these people who are the closest to you who’ll be your anchor in life. Take care Nick.

 

http://www.mentalhealthintheuk.co.uk/Christmas.pdf

 

My parents are a similar age Saint and I too dread the day that they pass, but strangely enough not for me, but for my children. Being a rather modern family with both my wife and i working, they have provided much needed support over the years and my kids have come to look upon them very fondly indeed. 

 

I'm a bit of a romantic at heart and I love the old movies and the idea of life in Dickensian (Victorian) Britain, this is why I always feel so let down by the actions and the mentality of people out on a NYE, I absolutely loathe going into the local town center and seeing just how little compassion, sympathy, social awareness and integrity is on display. I stopped going a good few years ago and now I quite enjoy sitting at home with my little family around me, some close friends, a comfortable chair or to, Jools Holland on TV and taking stock of all that I have.

 

 

 

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 Seconded. It was expressed beautifully. 

 

Death is the only certainty, and as you get older the number of sad anniversaries and moving memories gets greater for all of us.

It is possible to turn unhappy memories into positive recollections of special people and important occasions, more of a loving celebration and less of an anguished recollection. How you do this is a very individual thing, but it is an important process to share and pass on to the next generation.

Every Christmas seems to bring unwelcome "tidings" as the news of family and friends comes in - of deaths, illnesses, breakups, breakdowns, failing faculties. All the more reason to build memories, even bitter-sweet memories, that can be recalled.

You can only live for the day, the past is behind you, the future can only be guessed at. You can either spend today regretting, grieving and fearing, or try make it as good and memorable as possible.

Where young folks are agonising about their lives, they may find that charity "Young Minds" offers valuable support, advice and suggestions. Adults may too. See:

https://youngminds.org.uk/

Roger

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Wow, what a thread. Sitting in work reading it I had a few tears in my eyes.

My mum passed away in November after being diagnosed just before last Christmas with that b*stard of an illness called Motor Neurone Disease. I remember last Christmas Eve sitting with her and Dad and we all got a bit emotional as the realisation hit of what lay ahead. Part of me must have known that she wouldn't make it through to this Christmas as over the course of the year she lost her ability to speak, eat, swallow and walk. Dad (80) looked after her until the end when she died in his arms.

We will be together as a family this Christmas, although naturally my Dad may want time away from the rest of us during the day as the emotion overwhelms him. My own feeling is that I always enjoyed Christmas as a child and I want to create the same happy memories for my young daughter. And I will embrace any emotions that may come over me on the day.

I agree with Saint that I find NYE more melancholic. Death is too great an event to be fully comprehended by us mere humans! I've been thinking a lot about my mum since she passed, mainly about how she suffered her condition without ever once complaining.

Wow, what a thread. Sitting in work reading it I had a few tears in my eyes.

My mum passed away in November after being diagnosed just before last Christmas with that b*stard of an illness called Motor Neurone Disease. I remember last Christmas Eve sitting with her and Dad and we all got a bit emotional as the realisation hit of what lay ahead. Part of me must have known that she wouldn't make it through to this Christmas as over the course of the year she lost her ability to speak, eat, swallow and walk. Dad (80) looked after her until the end when she died in his arms.

We will be together as a family this Christmas, although naturally my Dad may want time away from the rest of us during the day as the emotion overwhelms him. My own feeling is that I always enjoyed Christmas as a child and I want to create the same happy memories for my young daughter. And I will embrace any emotions that may come over me on the day.

I agree with Saint that I find NYE more melancholic. Death is too great an event to be fully comprehended by us mere humans! I've been thinking a lot about my mum since she passed, mainly about how she suffered her condition without ever once complaining.

Yet another thoughtful and thought-provoking post. Thank you. The bit in bold sums up how I take it, and the thoughts expressed in my opening post are largely kept private.

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Death is the only certainty, and as you get older the number of sad anniversaries and moving memories gets greater for all of us.

It is possible to turn unhappy memories into positive recollections of special people and important occasions, more of a loving celebration and less of an anguished recollection. How you do this is a very individual thing, but it is an important process to share and pass on to the next generation.

Every Christmas seems to bring unwelcome "tidings" as the news of family and friends comes in - of deaths, illnesses, breakups, breakdowns, failing faculties. All the more reason to build memories, even bitter-sweet memories, that can be recalled.

You can only live for the day, the past is behind you, the future can only be guessed at. You can either spend today regretting, grieving and fearing, or try make it as good and memorable as possible.

Where young folks are agonising about their lives, they may find that charity "Young Minds" offers valuable support, advice and suggestions. Adults may too. See:

https://youngminds.org.uk/

Roger

Wonderfully expressed Roger and I agree wholeheartedly.

I recall how my late grandmother used to say that there was a certain cruelty in living a long life (she was 93 when she passed on) in that you inevitably lose many, if not all of the friends you grew up with, siblings, and basically everyone who made you what you are. This sentiment of hers stuck with me. She herself died just before Christmas in 2010, and she is greatly missed. 

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Some wonderful sentiment and insight here.

if I could just lighten the mood a little in the hope of bringing a smile. My grandfather, who I still class as being one of the most inspiring men I have ever known, passed at the age of 91 whilst being nursed by my Aunt and Uncle up in Lochgilphead off the west coast of Scotland. As it was the week before Christmas and they were intending on coming to Teesside to visit the rest of the family anyway, my Aunt and Uncle, with a mixture of grief and uncertainty, made the decision to put my Grandfather in the back of the Orion and drive him back to Stockton on Tees.

Whilst this is a deeply sad time of course, my fathers family, which is quite large to say the least, can actually laugh at the though of my Aunt and Uncle taking a 6 hour drive with my late grandfather in the back of the car and we liken it to something out of a good Only Fools and Horses episode.

As I say, i know this is a solemn thread, but a hint of levity in the midst of such thoughts can often warm the heart a little

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Whilst I'm thankful that I'm someone who can enjoy Christmas, I do also spare a thought that for some, the Christmas period can be a hard and emotionally testing time to say the least. Not only is it the realisation that yet another year has come and gone (seriously, I'm old before my time), but its also a time of reflection and remembering those that are not with us to enjoy this year.

My mum finds the run-up to Christmas quite testing, as 22 December was her mum's birthday and she also lost one of her brothers and few nephews around this time too. Reading posts further up, I can really see how some come to loathe this time of year for that reason. Spending Christmas alone without friends/family or a significant other is a depressing thought that I can't even pretend to comprehend, and I pray that it's an experience that I won't have to endure any time soon.

Whether 2018 has been a good or a bad year for you, just remember that you're still here today, and be thankful for that! Many people haven't been as lucky and their families will feel an overwhelming sense of loss at this time.

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I think I probably look forward to Christmas more now than any time since I was a child.   But for all the "wrong" reasons .....   It's the one time of year I can stock up on food and drink and DVDs and shut myself away from the pressures of the world for a few days whilst still enjoying the comforts of home.  No need to see, speak or hear anyone else.  Yep, I'm just a selfish misanthropic b*stard

Ne're Eve is a different matter and I do something feel a little maudlin, thinking back 20 years or more when I enjoyed so many Hogmanays in a bothy in the hills - meeting friends and strangers, sharing food and drink and song around a roaring fire till the early hours, then first footing a hill next day - wishing I could do it again.   But times change, as they must and always will.  It's no longer the 1990s and whatever we try and do, we'll never replicate it; it can never be the same (this year they'll all be listening to iPods in the bothy and posting to Facebook ....).  What's past is past and we have only the future.  That's the place to look.  And if you don't like what you see, there's time yet to change it.  

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Ne're Eve is a different matter and I do something feel a little maudlin, thinking back 20 years or more when I enjoyed so many Hogmanays in a bothy in the hills - meeting friends and strangers, sharing food and drink and song around a roaring fire till the early hours, then first footing a hill next day - wishing I could do it again.   But times change, as they must and always will.  It's no longer the 1990s and whatever we try and do, we'll never replicate it; it can never be the same (this year they'll all be listening to iPods in the bothy and posting to Facebook ....).  What's past is past and we have only the future.  That's the place to look.  And if you don't like what you see, there's time yet to change it.  

 

Very much so.

I have a group of friends with whom I grew up. We still very much keep in touch, although there've been times where, for one reason or another, one or more has drifted away a little, but we always meet up at least two or three times a year as well as seeing each other individually more often (I play racquetball with one). One of the more reliable meet-ups is between Xmas and NY and we went through a phase of agreeing to book a big house in Scotland or Northumbria or even North Wales for the following New Year, split the cost, and meet up there with our wives & kids. The kids could all get to know each other better (they've all met each other at varying points) and we could all have a scream.

And we never actually got round to doing it.

It got brought up last year but was a bit awkward. One is going through a bitter divorce; another's wife has a chronic & degenerative brain disease and struggles now with mobility; one has a son who is now 19, whilst the rest of us have kids between 8 and 15.

So the opportunity, which you think will be there for ages, has well and truly passed. And it'll never happen.

 

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Isaac Guillory: Thanksgiving Eve - speakers on...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PagE2v4_XY4

 

 

Says it all.
Roger

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Some very powerful and heartfelt posts and I fully understand all of you. But I agree with Saint about closing the door against thoughts that hurt and I’m thankful that I’m able to do exactly that!  I’m also careful that I don’t get into a situation where that door might open and I do that by changing the way I do things. 

My eldest son died in January 2016, so this year will be my third Christmas without him.  He always spent Christmas with us (43 of them) and so as not to have an empty chair at dinner that first Christmas, we invited all my family and had 16 around the table on Christmas Day.  Our house was filled with love, the people I’m closest to and care for the most and I realised that those who are still with me are what matters now and that I should be grateful for having them.

It actually made it the best Christmas I could have imagined. Everyone enjoyed it so much we decided we should do the same the following year.  But that first big Christmas, was to be our last Christmas with my mum, as she died the following summer.  I was so glad she’d had all her family around her and it made it even more important that the family spend time with each other.  

So, this will be our third big family Christmas dinner at our house and we’ll remember those we’ve lost but our memories will only be happy ones, because we’re a happy family, grateful to have each other.  It’s those who are living who are important and time is better spent being thankful for what we have, than being sad over what we no longer have. 

It’s really a state of mind.  I really feel for anyone who can’t adjust and consider myself to be very lucky that I can.  It also helps me to think that there are many people in this world who are far, far worse off than I am and have suffered greater tragedies.  

Merry Christmas all!  

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