OK, so it’s Christmas Eve. For me, Christmas is anything but a celebration. Having said that, this year I have surprised myself by the amount of Christmassy things I have done. First, there was the Folded Fabric Christmas Tree, above. Then along came the Crazy Patchwork Christmas Tree.
Next came the ‘interestingly shaped’ stockings for my Sweetie Pie, my Treasure and my Precious:
And I mustn’t forget the felt Christmas tree decoration:
I am pleased that I have managed to achieve all of the above, but, what I am most proud of is that I have managed to listen to Silent Night sung by Sinead O’Connor, without breaking down in floods of tears.
Picture this: Christmas Eve 2001, I am sitting in my husband’s hospital room, holding his hand whilst he drifts in and out of consciousness. It is said that hearing is the last thing to go so I have brought in a radio in order that we can listen to Classic FM, as opera is his first love. But… I have completely forgotten that it is Christmas so, of course, they are playing carols. Then I hear Silent Night being sung by Sinead O’Connor. It has been my favourite carol since I was a small child but now it brings back memories of a certain Christmas that we shared, and creates new, piercingly painful, memories.
My husband died in my arms a few hours later and, since then Christmas has been so very hard to cope with. Whenever I heard any version of Silent Night I would be crying. However I had not heard this version from that night, until it played in a restaurant I was sitting in recently. It was painful, but bearable, and it showed me that I am able to begin looking at Christmas in a less painful light.
I have shared all of the above not for sympathy – I neither want nor need it – but to show how amazing it is that I am able to say the following:
I wish you all a wonderful Christmas.