Is it too late?

Is it too late to 'Humbug' Christmas?

Is it too early to do the soul searching thing that we always seem to do at New Year?

Stuck between the two great holdays of the year in the limbo that is the 'Festive Season'.

'Boxing Day' always filled me with dread, that of excrutiating boredom. A day removed of all the excitement of Christmas Eve, the expectation, the excitement, the tension. Only to be replaced with a day of sport, left-overs and badly chosen presents.

I remember the Christmas my Father gave me an electric organ. There's a polaroid photo of me somewhere just after I've finished unpacking it. There's no disguising the disappointment on that face....

What on earth was he thinking of? Which particular straw had he desperately grasped at that year? Or was it (once again) an offer he couldn't refuse?

In a couple of days time, not sure which exactly, he will have been dead approximately 12 years. It pains me to say that I can't be more accurate. My god, even in death he's as unfathomable as he was when he was alive. His death was a loss to us all. For a short while.

Is it too much to hope that I won't die as ignominiously as he did? With a church full of people whom we, the family, didn't know. A funeral for a man we didn't know. Loved and respected by all. Except us.

Is it too late to be someone other than my Father's son?

Or am I more than that?

These days

These days are always difficult. How often have I said in the last
few weeks that more people die in this month than any other? Is that a
comfort?

No, it's an explanation for the unexplained and unexplainable.

Death and dying are two different things. Happened or still happening.
Finite or with the fear of infinite suffering.

Because that is the difference of course, the pain in one is for the
living. The other for the dying.

Sent from my iPhone

The Christmas 'borrel'

The Christmas Drinks, the New Year's Drinks, the round trip has begun.

But I haven't.

I'm left here sitting on my own in a room full of assorted volunteers
who all work for the Hiv-association. Men, women but up till now no
children thank god.

Nobody says hello, nobody says "who are you?" even, most bizarre
experience I can tell you. I've given my time and energy for nearly 4
years and the only people who seem to know that is the Director and
one of the editors of Hiv News.

I'm out of here as soon as humanly possible.

Sent from my iPhone