Merry Christmas Mum by Denise Gibb
Supermarkets were full with happy, excited people loading trolleys high with festive treats – I could barely organise myself to do the shopping. Every news stand thrust its glossy magazine covers at me. Each one promised to unlock the secret of looking Christmassy and glamorous if I bought them. I felt neither – just numb. Colourful pictures of gourmet Christmas feasts tormented me, cruelly reminding me of the meal I wasn’t preparing. I could barely baste the turkey. Smile. Prepare the perfect feast. Be the perfect host. Decorate the perfect tree. I felt the world was closing in on me, Christmas bells and all. When I turned on the television, happy families sung Christmas carols. I could hardly find my voice to speak. I opened my kitchen window. The joy in neighbour’s voices floated in as they busied themselves to pack for their annual Christmas camping holiday. I closed the window and pulled down the blind. Outside my front door, young children squealed as they jumped over the sprinklers on my front lawn as the bullets of water threatened to hunt them down. I was detached from their joy. Watching their excitement exhausted me. I felt the world had gone mad with festive fever. Didn’t anyone understand my pain? Didn’t anyone care that I’d lost my mum? Couldn’t anyone see the pain in my heart? Couldn’t they feel it? I just wanted to see her smiling face; to laugh at her off beat sense of humour – just one more time. Was that too much to ask? Bargaining, pleading and begging to turn back the clock is all part of grieving. If this Christmas is a first for you, take comfort. Your pain will ease. Mine did. Below is a rhyme I made up to help myself through my darkest hours. It became my Christmas ritual. Sometimes I’d light a candle; sometimes I’d stare up at a star filled sky, and other times I’d sit in my lounge room late at night, bathed in the warm dim glow emanating from my Christmas tree lights. Mum, I look within to put happiness in sight, I want so much to share in Christmas’s delight. I
think of the years we spent together, Just when I think the pain I can no longer bare, I feel your love wash over my despair. For
as sure as Christmas stars are in sight, I
breathe in once, twice, then very deep, In
the light to see your smiling face, Merry Christmas Mum. |