Feeling Old and Tatty?!

• January
• 10

I’ve had the same Bible for about fifteen years now, and it’s looking quite a bit the worse for wear.

When Miss 15 was just a bub, she ripped out the front pages (Genesis starts at Chapter 18!); the front cover has fallen off completely and been reattached with sturdy duct tape; and it’s faded, with the pages creased and curling up at the corners.

However tatty it looks though, I don’t want a new one! My Bible has become an old and dear friend. Years of constant use means that I know exactly where to find things when I need them. Scriptures that have been particularly meaningful to me are marked with highlighter, while some passages are underlined. There are explanations and prayer requests scribbled in the margins, and sermon notes on the flyleaf.

To anybody else it might look old and tattered, but if anything it is even more valuable to me than it was when I first bought it and it was shiny and new. A new Bible just wouldn’t be the same!

At a recent Footprints meeting, the girls (okay maybe we’re not “girls” anymore as not one of us is under 30!) were discussing some of the side effects of ageing.

I revealed to the other Team Members that lately I have been feeling a bit “old and tattered”. Everywhere I look – on the street, on TV, in magazines – are the “beautiful people” and the gap between me and them is only growing wider.

Now I’m 45, my skin has lost its youthful glow and there are a few lines and wrinkles appearing. I have a new crease above my mouth, especially when I first wake up in the morning.

My tummy has the dreaded middle-age spread; I’ve developed tuckshop lady arms.

And it seems each time I look in the mirror there is a new grey hair, sparkling defiantly at me!

But as I sat with my Bible in front of me that day, I felt God whispering to me that although I may be showing signs of wear and tear, I definitely haven’t outlived my usefulness either!

In fact just like my precious Bible, He has poured His grace, wisdom and love into me. No matter how I may be feeling or looking, I know that I am treasured – by my God, by my husband, by my children, by my friends and by my readers – and I am blessed!

PRAISE GOD there is no such thing as old and tatty in His Kingdom!

Proverbs 16:31 (The Message): Gray hair is a mark of distinction, the award for a God-loyal life.

 

 

Why wasn’t I told?

• January
• 6

The Friday Files continue …

So how DID I find out about my mother’s death, so long after the event?

Ah, the wonders of the internet!

Actually I’d been googling my grandmother (at left in photo below, giving my sister a bottle – I’m the toddler, the woman on the right is my great grandmother, with my dad at the back. Circa 1969).

I knew she would be 96 if she was still alive. I wondered if she had passed away and was looking for a death or funeral notice. Just idle curiosity really. So imagine my shock when I saw a funeral notice listing with “dearly beloved daughter of B” (not a common name) … hastily I clicked on the link and scanned the text in front of me …

X, aged 62 years, of —. Passed away peacefully (date) February, 2007 at — Hospital. Dearly loved wife of A, beloved daughter of B and loved sister of C. Relatives and friends are respectfully invited to attend a Service of Thanksgiving for X’s Life to be held at 2 p.m. on  — February, 2007 in the — Church, — Street, —–. Private Cremation Special thanks to the staff at — Hospital and — Nursing Centre and her church family for the love and care shown to X.

I sat staring at the screen, trying desperately to compute and understand what I had just read.

Then the dates hit me. So long ago!!!!! Stunned, I turned around in my chair to face the rest of my section (I was at work at the time) and they must have seen something in my face because straight away one of my colleagues asked if I was all right.

Gasping for air, I finally choked out the words: “My Mum …. Died ……” and the floodgates opened. Despite our estrangement, despite the pain, despite everything, I was devastated. Why? Because at the end of the day, she was still my Mum.

I have since found out that it was my mother’s express wishes that my siblings and I *not* be told …

However I can’t help  being angry with my uncle. My grandmother is in a nursing home with dementia so I can’t blame her. I’d only met that particular stepfather two or three times so we’d never had a close relationship. But my uncle … that was different. Surely once the funeral was over … After a few months passed by …

Or most definitely, when my cousin – his son – made contact via Facebook and realised that my siblings and I *still* didn’t know about my mother’s death, about a year before I did actually stumble across her funeral notice on the Net!  At the time my cousin suggested that we make contact with our maternal grandmother, as she was in a nursing home and poorly – we hadn’t seen her since the final falling out with Mum. I considered it seriously but ended up letting my cousin know that I thought it wasn’t appropriate with things the way they were with my mum. I closed my email by saying, “Besides, I can hear my Mum’s comments now – you only want to see her so you can get into her Will!”

I can only imagine his face when he read that, knowing she’d been dead for years!

I was saddened to hear that it was my mother who didn’t want us to know. Over the years, I had come to a place of forgiveness and although we no longer had contact, I sincerely wished only the best for her. And I had hoped, that somehow, she would have felt the same for me …

Obviously not.

It was a double blow to know that not only had my mother died, but that she had remained bitter and angry right to the very end. I don’t think too many people can say that their mother hated them!

For years I thought it was my fault … nowadays of course I know better. No matter what I did, if we had stayed in contact, if I had done everything that she had wanted and turned my life upside down to meet her slightest whim, I would NEVER, EVER have pleased her. So it really was for the best that I cut her out of my life so many years ago.

It was not a decision that came easily. I’m a Christian - HOW could my relationship with my own mother have broken down so irretrievably? I was burdened by guilt and shame.

It didn’t help when people judged me and thought I should have “tried harder”. Whenever that happened, I reminded myself of one crucial fact: THEY’D NEVER MET MY MOTHER. Nor did they have to live with her!

Next post I will share about how and why I finally cut ties with my mother … and why I believe that sometimes, it is the best thing to do.

(By the way, I *love* comments – so don’t be shy!)

Priceless!

• January
• 3

Some of the very special gifts I have received from my husband over the years …

Two plastic outdoor chairs – $40

A new steam iron – $50

One stuffed toy puppy dog – $20

A reading lamp and three puzzle books – $25

The thought, love and meaning behind each gift – PRICELESS!

My husband is a champion in the gift giving department. Long term readers of Footprints magazine may remember how he gave me “The Perfect Gift”  one birthday, long before we were married.

At the time I was a bit disappointed that the two outdoor chairs for my front patio, were not the diamond ring I had been hoping for! But …  those chairs became our favourite spot for a cuppa and a chat … so really, the gift that he gave all those years ago was so much more than two outdoor chairs. Lawrence gave us the gift of communication, vital to any healthy relationship or marriage.

Lawrence just seems to have a knack for thinking of a gift that is especially meaningful to me. Sometimes it may seem a peculiar present to others, but not to us. One Valentine’s Day he surprised me with a new iron. This may seem the ultimate chauvinistic gift to some, but at the time we were really strapped for cash and he knew how much our old iron was annoying me. A new iron made my life so much easier, and I really hadn’t been expecting a gift for Valentine’s at all!

Sometimes, the gifts are for no reason. I was feeling quite low and lonely a few years ago, as Lawrence had exams coming up and was overwhelmed with study. Despite the pressure he was under, Lawrence picked up on the feelings I was struggling to hide and brought home a very special gift – Sophie Snuggles! Sophie is a large stuffed puppy, which he explained was to keep me company and give me somebody to cuddle on those long nights when he had to study. Awwwww!

One Christmas, he gave me a reading lamp and three crossword and word puzzle books. He had taken notice weeks earlier when I’d made a passing comment about how difficult I was finding it to read in the lounge room. Now I had my own little corner of the lounge where I can read or do puzzles with ease. Heaven!

Lawrence isn’t perfect – after nearly 22 years of marriage he still hasn’t learnt that dirty socks go in the laundry basket! – but I really treasure the way he makes me feel so loved and adored all year round, but especially on birthdays and other special occasions. It’s a real gift (pardon the pun)!

Can’t wait to see what he comes up with for my birthday this week!

 

 

Bad Birthdays

• January
• 1

Happy birthday to me – because this week I will turn 45!

We haven’t got any specific celebrations planned (certainly nothing like the 40^th birthday bash my sister had last month!), but knowing my husband it will be a wonderful day just the same. He has a gift for making me feel special and cherished every day, but never more so than on my birthday.

It hasn’t always been so. In the past I’ve had some birthdays that are incredibly memorable – for all the WRONG reasons!

We were bush camping at the beach with my mother’s new partner the year I turned 12 (they married later that year). This in itself was probably not so bad. But what WAS bad was that there were NO birthday presents. NO card. NO cake. Nothing special at all! We spent the day fishing and swimming at the beach, but I think my 12 year old little heart broke. The message I received was that I wasn’t special enough to have a birthday. That now I was growing up I would just have to get over any notion that my birthday was special. Oh, I didn’t miss out completely – I was given some money when we returned to “civilisation”, which I promptly spent on a Barbie doll (didn’t want to let go of my childhood just yet)! But it was a pretty harsh birthday for a kid.

My 19^th birthday was also pretty rotten. My boyfriend (of over 2 years) took me out for dinner, gave me my gift (a simple gold chain) and then promptly broke up with me on the way home. I cried floods of tears. It wasn’t a complete shock – I’d sensed for a couple of weeks that something was not right – but I was still devastated. Oh well. At least he waited until AFTER dinner and presents before he dumped me!

Then there was my 26^th birthday when I came down with a stomach bug and spent the night kneeling at the porcelain altar (toilet)! Thankfully we’d celebrated with a trip to Movieworld, the weekend before. Maybe that’s where I picked up the virus …

The day I turned 36, the phone rang at about 7.10am. Nothing unusual in that – I knew it would be somebody ringing to wish me a happy birthday. Sure enough, one of my sisters was on the other end of the line. However she was NOT calling for my birthday, rather, it was to break the news that our father had suffered a heart attack in the night and was now in Intensive Care. We came close to losing Dad, so it was not a very happy birthday at all as we were all very worried for him. Thankfully he’s fine now!

Let’s hope my 45^th birthday is much better than any of these!

What about you? What was YOUR worst birthday – and why?

Farewell 2011 …

• December
• 31

I came across this meme on some random blog I visited (of course I can’t find it now so can’t link back to it sorry), and decided to pinch it – you are welcome to borrow as well if you like … 

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

Had a CT coronary angiogram (all clear, thank you Lord!) … went to a jazz concert …

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

My goal (I don’t make NYRs) for 2011 was to see Mr 17 graduate high school, and I’m pleased to say - mission accomplished!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Nah, moving beyond the childbearing years …

4. Did anyone close to you die?

I learnt my Mum died (even though it was in 2007) – does that count?!

5. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

Satisfaction in my job.

6. What countries did you visit?

None – but going on a cruise to NZ soon!

7. What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:

August 24. The day I stumbled across my mother’s funeral notice on the internet.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Supporting Mr 17 to graduate high school … producing another 4 great issues of Footprints … learning to crochet … growing my own vegies … getting the house on the block demolished so we could move ahead with the subdivision … all worth celebrating!

9. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I had a bad ear infection in September.

10. What was the best thing you bought?

I bought a new dresser for our bedroom through Gumtree for $100, worth over $600 new. Bargain!

 

11. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Miss 15 has certainly had a couple of interesting moments …

12. Where did most of your money go?

Juggling two mortgages and completing our stupid subdivision WILL IT EVER END …

13. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Learning that I don’t have hereditary heart disease (my grandma died at 45) AND our upcoming NZ cruise!

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?

 The song we played at the memorial for my Mum – Kelly Clarkson’s “Because of You” …

15. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Speaking and preaching! Forgot how much I love it! (I taught a session at the Word Writers Fair in November – see pic below).

16. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Working!

17. Did you fall in love in 2011?

My love for my husband grows more every single day … soppy but true!

18. What was your favorite TV program?

One Born Every Minute. I always cry when the babies are born, I love the miracle of life and feel all nostalgic for when my teenagers were bubs!

19. What was the best book you read?

I’ve read so many great books this year I can’t say that any particular one stands out. Have read lots of great Aussie Christian authors, thanks to Light the Dark - you just have to check out their range!

 20. What was your greatest musical discovery?

After going to my first jazz concert I realised I love big band music!

22. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 44 … but it’s nearly a year ago now so I really don’t remember! I think we went to Sizzler for lunch?! (Yep, see photo below).

23. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

If we could just complete the subdivision, and get a good price for the two resulting blocks of land … hopefully in 2012 …

24. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

During the work week, I like office wear (straight skirts or pants, blouses, vest or cardy when it’s cold).  In my free time I loved maxi dresses (summer) and black leggings, with a top and a long drapey vest or cardy (winter).

 25. What kept you sane?

My relationship with God. Visiting my psychologist as I processed the events around my mother’s death. Always my supportive husband. And Miss Shea for being a friend and all round nice gal at work!

26. Who was the best new person you met?

Shea, who started as an admin officer in my area this year.

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:

I don’t have to be perfect, and everything I turn my hand to doesn’t have to be perfect … sometimes good enough is enough … just being there, or doing whatever, is all that is needed …

Now over to you – if you would like to take part, you are most welcome. Don’t forget to link back and let me know so I can visit!

 

 

A Living Nightmare

• December
• 30

The Friday Files continue …

If you’ve been following the Friday files for a while, no doubt you’ll agree that my childhood was far from ideal. In fact, it was a living nightmare.

Want to know one of my most embarrassing secrets? Right up until the night I left home, just two weeks before my twentieth birthday, I would hit my head against the pillow rhythmically to lull myself to sleep. This is a habit which can sometimes be seen in babies and toddlers but not generally in a nineteen year old!

I would often wonder how I would cope if I ever got married and had to share my bed with a husband. My family would tease me about it sometimes, referring to my bizarre bedtime ritual as “bonking” – fortunately the word was not tainted by the innuendo that it is today!

The first night that I left home, despite all the turmoil, I fell asleep within moments of my head touching the pillow. This was unheard of – I was used to lying awake for at least an hour every night before sleep finally came.

One of the reasons for this insomnia was that we never knew when Mum would burst in and tear all the covers off us, screaming and raging.

The stairs to the laundry were right next to the room my sister and I shared, and every night I would lie in bed trembling, with baited breath, as I heard her footsteps on the stairs, only relaxing when all was quiet once more.

Many was the time Mum would storm in at some ungodly hour of the night, to take us to task over some real or imagined slight. We never knew just when she might appear in the doorway, a dark shadow, the stuff of nightmares in real life … 

She justified this behaviour by saying, “I’m upset, so everybody else has to be upset too!”

I certainly dreamt of leaving home many times throughout my teen years. My fantasies included moving into my own apartment. It would be light and airy, lots  of white, with brightly coloured pictures and other accents. It would be decorated in the minimalist style, with an absence of the clutter of my childhood home. My home would be filled with peace and light, quiet and space. You don’t have to be a psychologist, dream analyst or feng shui expert to know what I longed for!

As a teenager I sometimes saw a demon standing at the end of my bed in the dark of night. All I saw was a dark figure, thick and heavy with two bitter, raging red eyes bored into mine. It was terrifying! As I was a Christian by this stage I would pray and plead for the blood of Jesus to cover and protect me, eventually relaxing enough to fall back to sleep … I’m still not sure if these visions were real, or just a dream …

Even into adulthood I had frequent nightmares and although the setting and background were often different, the characters and plot were always the same – I re-wrote the episode of my final break from home. The big showdown (which you can read about here)!

My nightmares were filled with the same sense of adrenaline, anger and urgency as the real event, but in my dreams I was in control - I got to orchestrate the events, and have the last say!

I think this is significant now – as a child I was never allowed to be angry, or voice an opinion that was different to my mother’s. To even say “her way or the highway” is wrong. There was no highway. It was her way, or suffer the consequences.

My sleeping hours gave me the opportunity to explore this whole final dramatic showdown from many different angles, and to finally spew forth all the venom and rage that was within me. Nearly every time, I saw myself packing a bag to leave home forever, together with my siblings. My head spun as I tried to sort out basic necesseties such as an income, a place to live, and how to provide for all four of us.

Other recurrent nightmares involved tornadoes and spiders. Interestingly, when I looked up their meanings, both are indicative of your relationship with … wait for it … your mother!

Fortunately the nightmares have faded over the years. Obviously, I was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and as I recovered my sleep became much more peaceful!

I was disturbed by another aggressive dream recently, no doubt triggered by learning of Mum’s death. This time I was confronting my uncle and angrily berating him for not telling me about her death. This is something I have already decided I won’t be doing in real life. Yes, I’m disappointed, in fact I’m extremly angry, but we had no real relationship and he was never there for us in the past, so I certainly don’t think it’s time to play “happy families” now. (Obviously I am going to have to work on forgiving him but it’s a bit raw just at the moment!) …

Next week, find out WHY I wasn’t told about my own mother’s death!

love, Janet xxx

 

 

New Year, New You?

• December
• 27

Waiting at the supermarket checkout, I glanced over some of the popular women’s magazines on offer.

At this time of year they all have a familiar ring: New Year Resolutions, new beginnings, out with the old and in with the new – whether it be losing those kilos that crept on over Christmas, changing your hairstyle, updating your clothes or home décor with a few well-chosen accessories.  Learn that foreign language! Start some serious saving! Change your job or get that promotion!  Bigger (well maybe not our figures!), better, brighter … 

The world today is obsessed with self-improvement, creating a huge industry (and millions of dollars) for the so-called “gurus” of the business.  There are magazine articles, books, life coaches, TV shows, classes and seminars all promising to help you achieve your goals, manage your time, improve your self-esteem, strengthen your relationships, coordinate your wardrobe, kick your bad habits, lose that weight and get the body you’ve only dreamed about.  No matter what the target, they all have one thing in common: the claim that THIS is the sure-fire, never-fail way to get results, and have a great life!

The irony is that if you were to take a peek inside the self-proclaimed gurus’ lives, you’d most likely find that they too have their problems and failures.  Yes, they may have the secret to building a big bucks business – but what they don’t tell you is that it came at the cost of their marriage.  This week’s sensation might have lost fifty kilos and is now on telly saying that she wants to share her secrets – but first you’ll have to buy her book or pay to come to her conference! Meanwhile, her frustration and irritation with her strict and joyless diet has dramatically changed her personality and she finds that she is always yelling at her kids …

Sadly, people flock eagerly to the self-help gurus, when all too often it’s a case of the blind leading the blind!

On your quest for self-improvement, why not turn to the One who made you?  At last, HERE is Somebody who’s got it altogether!  He knows your every hurt and pain, every dream and desire.  Who better to guide you and be your own personal life-coach?  He’ll help you become all you can be, but without sacrificing other areas of your life.  God alone can give you true perspective and show you how to keep ALL the parts of your life in balance, while becoming the very best person that you can be.

Psalm 146:3-4 – Don’t put your life in the hand of experts who know nothing of life, of salvation life.  Mere humans don’t have what it takes … instead, get help from God … and know real blessing!

 

 

The Final Explosion

• December
• 23

The Friday Files continue …

Christmas – or more specifically Boxing Day 1986 – was when it all came to a head.

I’d just finished my final year at college, and was happily anticipating a teaching job in the near future. Maybe I’d even get a position in the country so I would have a reason to escape from home!

Mum soon put an end to that little dream, demanding that she “needed” me to help her and the family, insisting that I make it clear to the Education Department that I was not able to take a job outside of the metropolitan area. 

With high hopes of starting my teaching career, I’d quit my part-time job at a jewellery store.  One sister had just finished high school, whilst the next one down had had completed Year 10. We were growing older, most would even consider the high school graduate and myself as adults. Not that Mum ever treated us as such. 

 

Basically Mum was in a foul mood and absolutely spoiling for a fight that particular day. It didn’t matter what we said or did, she wanted an argument!

 

Ironically, she was the one who always wanted “peace”. One of mum’s catch-cries was “All I want is peace!” which seems terribly ironic because wherever she went, devastation and havoc soon followed.  For all that she claimed to want a quiet and peaceful life, mum was guaranteed to overreact to almost everything – good or bad.  She was the original Drama Queen and suffice it to say that most things in her life were bad and she sure let everybody know about it!  For somebody who supposedly loved peace so much, she sure stirred up a lot of arguments and strife.

 

This particular afternoon when she stomped into my room and began to belt into me, I hit her back. After all those years of abuse, I couldn’t take it anymore.

It turned into a real free-for-all which all of  my siblings joined, lashing out at Mum all while trying to pull her away from me and get her to stop.

 

We had committed the unpardonable sin and finally recognised the strength we had when we banded together, and Mum couldn’t bear it.  She snarled at us to get out, that she never wanted to see us again. As I packed my bags, I knew that she fully expected us to come crawling back in a couple of days.  But I vowed that I would never go back.

 

I drove halfway to a friend’s house before I had to pull over as I was engulfed by my sobbing. When the storm subsided, I continued to my friend’s, where she greeted me with a hug and a cool drink.

 

And so for the next couple of months I became a couch surfer, reliant on the goodwill of friends and their families to have a roof over my head and food in my tummy.

 

I had very little money, and no income until I either landed a teaching job, or the compulsory 6 week period was up and I could apply for unemployment benefits.

 

All I had to my name was a typical student car, which I had purchased with a student loan, a box of clothes, and that was pretty much it. I didn’t even have my credit  card – my mother had insisted on taking it from me before I left as she didn’t “trust me with it.”  Trust ME?!  Ha!  I didn’t trust her with it and the very next business day I reported it as stolen and had it cancelled! It gave me great satisfaction to think that two can play that game, thanks very much!

 

I had no family, no home, no job, no money, no prospects, and didn’t even have any contact with my sisters who had also fled to friends.

It took at least a month but eventually I arranged to share a house with some other single girls from my church. By this stage I was working as a casual check out operator at a supermarket so could afford to pay my share of the rent.

It was a very difficult start to the rest of my life but at last I was free … scared, hurting, damaged, vulnerable, poor, alone … but FREE!

 

NB. In this post I am linking up with my friend Wendy at http://mmuser.blogspot.com/2011/12/holiday-competition.html, as we share our Christmas memories. I’m hoping to win a copy of The Upper Room devotional, as I’ve never seen a copy before!

Making a List, Checking It Twice!

• December
• 20

No prizes for guessing who is “making a list, and checking it twice” at this time of year!  As any self-respecting five year old could tell you, it’s only a few sleeps now until Santa Claus comes.

“You’d better be a good boy at Auntie Em’s today or Santa won’t come!”

“Eat your veggies so Santa will be pleased with you!”

“If you don’t clean up your room right now, young lady, there’s no way that Santa is going to bring any presents to this house!”

Parents around the world are reminding their children that Santa is constantly on the watch, and any bad behaviour will be noticed and recorded instantly.

It’s just as well I’m not a child anymore, because Santa would boycott my house for sure! At work, I nearly lost my temper with a customer.  At home, I said a bad word or two.  A lie here, a gossip there, falling short everywhere.  I did things I shouldn’t have done, and didn’t do things I should have done!

I’m so glad that God isn’t making a list, and checking it twice!  He even tells us in Isaiah 43:25 “… I don’t keep a list of your sins” (The Message).    I don’t deserve forgiveness.  I don’t deserve God’s love and mercy.  I don’t deserve eternal life.  And neither do you!  Yet God gives them freely, anyway.  God takes cares of our sins.  Instead of seeing us in our miserable, sinful state, once we believe, He sees Jesus in us.  His holiness.  His goodness.  His love.  His purity.  This Christmas, let’s celebrate this, the greatest gift of all!

Holiday Hell

• December
• 16

The Friday Files continue …

Special occasions such as Christmas were particularly difficult when I was growing up, due to my mother’s psychiatric illness. I shared a little about it a couple of years ago in my post “The Ghosts of Christmas Past“, and how I came to hate the Christmas season, even long after my mother was out of the picture (fortunately that has changed and I have found joy in it once again!).

It is well known that Christmas can be a stressful and painful time, for those in difficult circumstances – the grieving, the lonely, the mentally or physically ill. Christmas with my Mum was no different. 

When I was about seven or eight, Mum determined that nothing but a full roast meal with all the trimmings would do for Christmas lunch, even though we were in the middle of a Brisbane heatwave.  (This was in the days before air conditioning became common place). Mum was hot, tired and cranky and soon let everybody know it! Any toddler could have taken lessons from my Mum in the art of chucking a tantrum!

No matter how much we anticipated that delicious meal, always a favourite, it tasted like cardboard and stuck in my throat when accompanied by Mum’s bad mood and rantings and ravings. Then she chucked a wobbly about the washing up.

Looking back now I wonder WHY she had to make a roast – these days, my family tends to have cold chicken, seafood, and salads for Christmas, much better for our summer weather!  (Although last year we cooked our first ever glazed ham – see pic above - and boy, was it YUMMY! Definitely going to make it again this year).

And why didn’t she just ask for help, if it was getting all too much for her? But no, like a volcano she erupted, successfully ruining Christmas for the whole family.

We kids soon learnt to tiptoe around, quietly tidying up and trying to stay out of Mum’s way to keep her happy (an impossible task, I now realise!).

Mum let all and sundry know from that point on that she “hated Christmas” and unfortunately I soon grew to loathe it too. I guess she just didn’t cope very well with the high expectations – the “perfect” meal, the “perfect” gifts, all while playing “happy families” in what hadn’t been a happy family for a very long time.

By the time I was a teenager, Mum refused to buy Christmas or birthday presents anymore as it was just too much of a hassle. It became the tradition that instead, each of us four children we were given $20 each for Christmas or birthday. It wasn’t much but then money was scarce in a sole parent family.

Although I was at an age where money probably was the best present, I still missed having a present to open on the actual day.  It wouldn’t have had to have been anything fancy.  Our Christmases seemed pretty sad in comparison to what I heard from my friends, who received bounty such as roller skates, clothes, record albums, bikes, stereos and anything else a teenage heart could desire!

But even a $20 note would have been fine if life hadn’t been in constant turmoil.

The worst Christmas of all was probably the one when I was 19. But I’ll save that story for next week, here on the Friday Files.