It’s a Peggy Lee song, Alan Carr chose it as one of his DID songs. Is that all there is? Her father takes her to the circus and at the end of it she asks that question. I’m feeling that same kind of anticlimax about all and nothing. All too conscious of the misery of those who’ve lost loved ones in the tsunami in Indonesia. What are my complaints compared to theirs? And yet, I have not complaints, they are not complaints, just this sense of sadness of loss. I miss her, I miss them all. He and I, we can’t create the same exuberance. She did it all so beautifully. With so much care. I loved her best then. All dressed up, dinner all under control and smelling gorgeous. I loved the lights, the candles, the scent of the tree. Nothing particular to us, but it was when our family was happy. She was happy so we were. It was that simple. She with her hostess trolley. There was half a glass of sherry for us. I remember the taste of the Christmas pudding with double cream and the coffee afterwards in those elegant porcelain cups of hers. And the Nissen hut surrounded by cotton wool. I recall getting a Kerplunk that I’d longed for for so long. And Dad handing out the presents. And that dip when it was all over. Is that all there is?
He wasn’t there this morning. So no presents to take down tomorrow morning. Perhaps someone has taken him in. That would be nice. Perhaps his family came for him. The Home Café are going to feed anyone homeless or with nowhere to go over Christmas, he said as we sat in the car waiting for the coffee shop to open. That’s nice, I said. Though, he said, they should do it all the time not just at Christmas. Shouldn’t we all?
I think most of all I miss the distraction of it. Of being enveloped in something akin to family. But this will do. There is love enough. Bless those of you who are without this day. May you find shelter, warmth, food and care.