There wasn’t any turkey this year but I felt like crying over it nonetheless

Christmas can be a difficult time of year when you are prone to bouts of sadness and critical self-reflection. Comic episodes can invoke a sense of inadequacy, joyous moments can trigger sorrow and the rest of the absurdities can make you feel isolated. It’s nothing to do with how loving your family is or how caring the community is that you find yourself surrounded by – if you feel shitty and alone, you just have to acknowledge it and ride it out. 

Despite feeling relatively flat over the last few days, I managed to make a few fragmented observations. For me it was important to record the small things – however humorous, small or apparently unimportant that happened over the Christmas period.

*

“How about we come to you so you can sit down in the photo?”
“No – I don’t want to look old” says our elderly family friend and we watch her stand somewhat shakily and make her way over to us for a photo. She is decisive and strong willed and although we are meant to be keeping our distance because of COVID, she puts her arm around my shoulders and holds me close. I try not to breathe.

*

Mum and I take a walk around the neighbourhood. We make the usual observations: which garden we like the best; how much the house on the street next to us is selling for; we admire the newly renovated and ponder over the dilapidated. We pass a house with a veggie garden in the front and a stocky dog – medium size, comes to observe us at the fence. Once, there used to be a sign at the front of the house advertising a clairvoyant. Mum does something odd – she makes an uncharacteristic bark sound and sticks her hand in a groping motion towards the animal. It’s a provocative move for someone who fears being barked at. The dog seems so stunned that it isn’t until we have long passed that he decides it’s worth yapping, but it’s a half hearted effort.

*

My sister and I pass the afternoon playing Scrabble to modified rules. It ends up being more competitive than planned, and by the end of the game I’ve given up – although by that stage I’ve won by a healthy margin of points. I don’t quite acknowledge the fact that she has beat me at a previous game of Speed so even though we’ve both won one game each I pretend I’ve come out on top. 

*

After Christmas hot chocolate and Panettone for breakfast, I crawl back into bed and fall asleep. Sleep comes easy but I feel foggy and slow trying to wake up. After multiple visits from all members of the family who ask if I’m ready to open presents, I hear a bell from the living room and the crinkle of wrapping paper. I stumble out of bed groggily and plonk myself down on the couch ready to observe everyone’s gift opening reactions. Dad has his camera ready but Mum insists she doesn’t want to be photographed without her made up eyebrows.   

*

From the backyard at my parents place, my sister spots a black cockatoo. I hear the bird just moments before my sister calls to us. It has a very distinct cry, more like a screechy seagull than a cockatoo to the untrained ear. When I open the back door to see if I can glimpse it, I see my sister standing at the top of the yard smiling up at the tree in our neighbours yard. I follow her gaze and see it perched on a tall pine. Within a few moments, it’s swooped by a native minor, and the bird spreads its large dark wings and makes a sudden, sharp descent, shrieking as it does before it accelerates upwards towards the sky

*

Rihanna and Kings of Convenience accompany my sister and I as we cook dinner. One pot is for normal wheat pasta, and the other hosts a gluten free kind. We prepare salmon with zucchini and carrot to stir through the pasta when it is ready. Afraid of tastelessness, my sister scrounges around the freezer for some frozen chilli we can use in our dish. She finds two whole frozen ones. I cut up one chilli roughly, seeds and all and throw it into the pan with the fried stuff.   

*

“You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout I’m telling you why” sings the old but not forgotten Santa that has graced every Christmas gathering for the last 20 years. We watch him slowly amble along the white tiles while he sings in a monotonous drawl. He may well be the darkest, most depressing Christmas character but is dutiful none-the-less. In the face of repetition and having fun poked at him, he takes it all in stride (or crawl) and does what he’s done in the only way he knows how – survive, slowly and surely but still survive.