They will cling to you as a baby would, but unlike babies they never cry and will snuggle all night without pissing themselves.
Over this year Mary has been loaned out many times to friends that need this “ cuddle time”
The other night my friend Ruth collected her for an under- the- duvet night, only a few hours after Hattie collects her for a walk ( and long hugs on a country bench) and a day after Trendy Carol collects all of the dogs but only allowing Mary to come up to her drawing room for some sit on her knee time .
I’ve just found out that the veteran actress Lynn Cohen died this year
Lynn was never a leading actress, but was, what was known as a jobbing actress.
Always busy, always in the background of a drama or a story
I always loved her as Miranda’s mother figure Magna in Sex and The City.
and when she finally kissed Cynthia Nixon on the forehead with the affirmation of “ You Love”
I was in buckets.
Many of us have these supporting actor types in our lives.
They aren’t best friends or next of kin’s.
We don’t have to see them all of the time , but they are often beavering away in the background, becoming characters we all can take for granted.
And ones we only mourn when they finally disappear from view.
I consider Albert as an animal member of this group. He walks around the cottage in the background like a shadow, with wide shocked looking eyes and a faint limp which allows the eye to focus on him. But with a succession of various tap dancing bulldogs taking centre stage, he remains to be content with a full food bowl and a quiet corner in which to sleep.
Weaver of Grass ( http://weaverofgrass.blogspot.com/) is another low key constant but a blog one. Never showy , never boastful she has been a quiet queen of blogs for a decade and a half, chatting quietly of country life in North Yorkshire with a pace that is both comforting and consistent.
Mrs Trellis, Gorgeous Dave, Wendy I’ve been to the ballet once with, Sitges Jon,
Leo and his texts.....Mick and Meggie and a whole bucketful of names from Sheffield.....the list is long and one I realise so beautifully long as I write my Christmas cards with my gliding ink pen
On reflection I can think of two dozen such characters, perhaps more who provide a backdrop to my life.
Like Magna they are vital and so important to ones existence, but like Magna, they always worked away in the background , mostly unsung, but as necessary to us , as air is to breathing
This evening I was asked what is my favourite memory of any Christmas
What a hard question this is to answer.
I’m feeling rather anti social tonight, and the hospice remains quiet , so I busied myself with some mindless checks of sell by dates of the unit’s drugs, and I thought about specific Christmases of note.
Having a Christmas review, I think, is very much like owning a succession of dogs. Each one has its own personality but there is a tendency of every one merging into each other.
Some stand out for the oddest reasons.
The year my father fell under the Christmas tree in his underpants with one of his more glamorous but equally pissed in laws.
The year each one of the family had to share some sort of dramatic or comic performance, each one excelling the other.
Lying on a sofa with a partner covered in dogs one sunny and lazy Christmas morning
Last year listening to a colleague sing silent night with a dying patient at 6 am
Childhood memories are a collage of 1970s tv, warm prawn cocktails and peanuts in glass bowls that before had been used as ash trays .
A visit to a poor psychiatric patient in their home , which had no carpets but still being offered me a mince pie and a cup of tea
The memories feed off each other and bounce around like poleroid photos in the wind.
I am reminded of a late shift one Christmas Day ( always the most hated) when I was charge Nurse on Osborn 1 at The Princess Royal Spinal Unit in Sheffield
It was dark, perhaps late afternoon and the majority of bed fast patients had many visitors surrounding them ,like musk oxen surrounding their young and weak
Three African nurses were on duty with me and they were pushing a very drunk and smiling patient on his bed back to the ward from the smoking room .
He was nursing a rather robust looking bottle of port
And true to form, they were singing all in low easy voices......one pushing the bed, one pulling and the other holding tight to the patient’s hand.
Several of the relatives came and stood in the corridor to listen, as I did at my office door as the procession went passed and I cannot hear this song without thinking of the pure humanity of that little moment
It’s been a quiet night so far. My patients are sleeping pain free and the hospice is silent save for the gentle whirl of the photocopier fan in the office and the cough of a patient .
I’ve started to write my Christmas cards this evening.
It’s been a difficult year for everyone , so I’m taking my time .
The cards have a linen finish and it’s lovely to write on them with an ink pen bought specially for the job.
Another treat realised because of covid
Another small joy out of no where.
It’s been a funny old year all told and one where it may be hard work picking out the good bits.
My 2020 has been a growth year.
My decree absolute severed those final ties to the divorce I never wanted and despite the lockdown new friends have appeared and old ones maintained through zoom and phone and thought.
I am lucky, luckier than most
Luckier than many
So here’s is my Christmas Card to you readers
It’s is a thank you and a greeting and I send it knowing how supported I feel that you pop in so regularly to read the journals of a very ordinary Welshman who is trying to make sense of a world which is sometimes hard work.
Going Gently is not a public forum with my life up for debate, it’s a place for a ramble and a share and I am grateful for a shared good humour from nearly all of you as I so just that
So let’s all of us have a peaceful time this year.
I shall be working Christmas Eve then hope to meet up with my sisters for a walk and a present swap and perhaps a turkey sandwich and soup in the garden or by the beach.
And that will be nice
2020 has taught us all to treasure the small and the once overlooked and taken for granted
I haven’t much to share today, it’s grey and chilly
I wore shorts when out for a walk with the girls this morning even though it was cold. I have patches of psoriasis on my knees which I defiantly show off from time to time.
I’m working nights until after Christmas, I’m cooking a shepherds pie ready for supper at work tonight
My nephew who is 18 and has Aspergers, has just got his first job, I just told him how proud I am of him and I think that’s so important..if you are proud say it loud ....my parents seldom praised me as a kid
I’ve bathed the dogs, Mary with her anti fungal. Winnie and Dorothy with pears baby shampoo and Winnie has had a rare once over with her fanny flannel....the cottage smells fragrant again
I’ve just missed an invitation for coffee by Chic Eleanor and with nights now will only be able catch up with next week, it will be refreshing to see her .
I had my first Christmas cards today one off Sue and the other from a ‘cold and dark Sweden’
I will leave you with this delightful impersonation of Miss Peggy Lee followed by a Christmas message from Fascinating Aida
