Christmas Day was miserable; completely on my own I really felt the odd man out, just dwelling all alone But Boxing Day was different, with family being here My son and the little ones; I hold them all so dear
The children’s eyes lit up as they saw all the wrapping Both of them excited, and Charlie started clapping Off came the paper, the ribbons and the bows Imogen’s gifts all lined up in neat, tidy rows
The afternoon was spent playing with their new toys I didn’t mind for one minute all the chat and noise Tom brought their dinner as they wouldn’t eat nut roast We all enjoyed our food, and Tom ate the most
It was a joy to have them here; they stayed overnight New pyjamas, bedtime stories and all tucked up tight Tom and I got chatting – it made a welcome change It didn’t seem quite natural, so felt a bit strange
We ironed out our differences, which did us both good My Christmas Day sadness seemed to be understood The next day, we got up very early in the morning The children were still tired; Charlie couldn’t stop yawning
They piled all their presents high in the car’s large boot They waved out of the windows and headed on their route I came back indoors to start clearing up the mess I really wasn’t bothered as I felt so very blessed
Tuesday morning came, more excitement on the way My daughter and her family came; we had a lovely day We went to a restaurant, had lunch and some pud Stuffed to the brim, as the food was so good
I hadn’t seen them all for much more than half a year So, it was such a pleasure to have them visiting here They didn’t stay that long; they had a fair way to go When I’ll see them again, I really don’t know
As long as the love between us is always there There’ll always be memories for us to share I love both my children; they bring me so much joy My five-foot-nothing daughter and my six-foot-two boy.
Here we are on Christmas Eve … where did that year go!?
Although I’ll be alone tomorrow (as will many others), I will keep myself busy. I’m determined to cook myself a tasty vegan Christmas dinner – almond and pecan loaf, roast potatoes, vegan pigs in blankets (yes, you really can get those now), chestnut stuffing and onion gravy. And, of course, not forgetting the brussel sprouts. Some people love them, like me, and others hate them with a passion! I’ve also left the wrapping of presents to do tomorrow to pass some of the time.
On Boxing Day, my son and the children are coming and sleeping over, which will be great. I love having my little ones to stay. My daughter is coming up on Tuesday with my son-in-law and the girls. I haven’t seen them since last August, so that will be lovely. So, although I’m alone tomorrow, I think of it as if I’m having my Christmas celebrations one day late, and that’s fine.
I’ll stop chatting here because I know so many of you will have a lot to do. However, if you are alone, I hope you can get through the day as best as you can. It’s hard being on your own when you feel the rest of the world is enjoying the festivities. I will be thinking of any of you who are in this situation. I wish every single one of you a lovely Christmas. I hope you can celebrate, even if in a small way.
FINALLY … Thank you from the deepest recesses of my heart for all the amazing and loving support you have given me as I’ve travelled on my somewhat difficult journey over the last few months. I don’t know where I’d be without you – you are like a family to me. I have a heartful of gratitude and feel incredibly blessed to be part of this big WordPress community. Thank you for being there for me, day in and day out. I love you all.
With much love and many warm hugs, Ellie Xxx 💖🤗💖🤗💝🎄💝🤗💖🤗💖
Tie it up in little boxes with a ribbon and a bow Tuck it all away inside, so nothing is on show What to do with all the trauma creeping through my brain Without support, where can I stuff down this amount of pain?
Secure those feelings firmly behind closed cupboard doors Hide away from peeping eyes; they’re not wanted anymore I thought I might be winning; I’d almost passed the post Having to lock it up again while I haven’t got a host*
C* said the time has come now for me to put it all away Leave sleeping dogs to lie rather than come out to play Waiting for the next in line could be a year or more Counting down the days while my brain keeps the score
The bonds we built between us were kind but very strong Boundaries as they should be, respectful; nothing wrong I should be feeling tougher, but my heart and soul cry out I should have trust in myself, but no, I’m full of doubt
She said I could leave notes for the one who’s coming next Just in case my mind’s in hiding and my memories repressed I’m dreading the goodbye day; I mustn’t make a fuss I’ll just be left with me alone and not the both of us.
NOTE: This poem is about a conversation I had with my counsellor this week in reference to my counselling coming to an end. She was suggesting that I try not to explore my childhood trauma too deeply in the few weeks we have left for fear of it becoming overwhelming again, and then having no one to process this with. She described it as putting all the trauma memories in a box until I see the next counsellor, whoever that is going to be. The waiting time could be up to a year. I can’t lie and say I’m not terrified because I am.
I’m so very grateful for all the support I’ve had from my blogging and real-life friends regarding alternative ways of finding low-cost therapy. I’m still searching this out, but at the same time, the thought of starting all over again with someone new is extremely daunting. Time will tell …