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A Christmas that changed me: when my secret solitude was shattered Christmas on your own? It could be bliss
(1 day later)
There I was, in my early 20s, single, no children, no dog, parents away on holiday, at Christmas. The perfect opportunity, I thought, to have a bit of peace and quiet. I planned to stay in, by myself, and have a lovely rest. No visiting or visitors. No panic over cooking, shopping and presents. And I like being by myself.There I was, in my early 20s, single, no children, no dog, parents away on holiday, at Christmas. The perfect opportunity, I thought, to have a bit of peace and quiet. I planned to stay in, by myself, and have a lovely rest. No visiting or visitors. No panic over cooking, shopping and presents. And I like being by myself.
I hadn’t told anyone my plan, because I knew no one would like it. They’d have felt sorry for me. However much I said I wanted to be by myself, my friends would never have believed it, so I’d told them I was with someone else. Because alone, to them, meant lonely.I hadn’t told anyone my plan, because I knew no one would like it. They’d have felt sorry for me. However much I said I wanted to be by myself, my friends would never have believed it, so I’d told them I was with someone else. Because alone, to them, meant lonely.
It’s an easy mistake to make. I’ve done it myself. I went out with a friend one Christmas Eve to a cafe. Sitting alone having a cafe Christmas dinner was a tatty-looking old man, all by himself. I felt so sorry for him, eating his lonely din, that I started blubbing and had to leave. But who knows? Perhaps he was perfectly happy. Perhaps he fancied turkey and his family was vegetarian. Perhaps he had a choice.It’s an easy mistake to make. I’ve done it myself. I went out with a friend one Christmas Eve to a cafe. Sitting alone having a cafe Christmas dinner was a tatty-looking old man, all by himself. I felt so sorry for him, eating his lonely din, that I started blubbing and had to leave. But who knows? Perhaps he was perfectly happy. Perhaps he fancied turkey and his family was vegetarian. Perhaps he had a choice.
I was lucky, I had one. I didn’t have to be on my own, but I like it. I like dim lights, silence, an open fire, fiddling about doing nothing much, perhaps a little piano practice, with nobody listening, whatever snacks I fancy whenever I like, no talking, no arguments. Just like a retreat, but without the prayers, rigid timetable and deprivations. Bliss.I was lucky, I had one. I didn’t have to be on my own, but I like it. I like dim lights, silence, an open fire, fiddling about doing nothing much, perhaps a little piano practice, with nobody listening, whatever snacks I fancy whenever I like, no talking, no arguments. Just like a retreat, but without the prayers, rigid timetable and deprivations. Bliss.
Now here was my chance. And it all started off perfectly. Outside the sky was bright blue. The sun was shining and blazing in through the big windows. There was wonderful music on the radio. I had a lovely scented bath. I got out of the bath. Complete peace. I had toast and coffee, then a little practice, and I was just staring blankly at the flames of the fire with some tea when suddenly the door bell rang. Who could it be? No one knew I was here. God knows why I answered it, but I did – big mistake, and there was an acquaintance of mine, holding a red rose.Now here was my chance. And it all started off perfectly. Outside the sky was bright blue. The sun was shining and blazing in through the big windows. There was wonderful music on the radio. I had a lovely scented bath. I got out of the bath. Complete peace. I had toast and coffee, then a little practice, and I was just staring blankly at the flames of the fire with some tea when suddenly the door bell rang. Who could it be? No one knew I was here. God knows why I answered it, but I did – big mistake, and there was an acquaintance of mine, holding a red rose.
In that instant, everything changed. Because I had been discovered alone at Christmas. I’d become a pitiful figure – friendless, unloved, no family. It wasn’t true, but I still felt it, because I knew he probably thought it – and worse still, the rose wasn’t even for me. It was for an attractive friend round the corner who made lutes, but she wasn’t in; so round he came to my house, his second choice, on the off-chance, casually wrecking my magical, secret Christmas. I’d felt confident, cheery and almost subversive when I had started it, but once I’d been caught out everything crumbled.In that instant, everything changed. Because I had been discovered alone at Christmas. I’d become a pitiful figure – friendless, unloved, no family. It wasn’t true, but I still felt it, because I knew he probably thought it – and worse still, the rose wasn’t even for me. It was for an attractive friend round the corner who made lutes, but she wasn’t in; so round he came to my house, his second choice, on the off-chance, casually wrecking my magical, secret Christmas. I’d felt confident, cheery and almost subversive when I had started it, but once I’d been caught out everything crumbled.
It wasn’t that the visitor was going to run out with a loudhailer and tell the world he had caught me out, but once he knew, it broke the spell. I was no longer sure who wanted what. Did I really need company or did everyone else think I needed company? Was I really at ease with my solitude or was I a tragic figure pretending I wasn’t? Who was running my life and my choices, me or them? Who was right? I hadn’t a clue.It wasn’t that the visitor was going to run out with a loudhailer and tell the world he had caught me out, but once he knew, it broke the spell. I was no longer sure who wanted what. Did I really need company or did everyone else think I needed company? Was I really at ease with my solitude or was I a tragic figure pretending I wasn’t? Who was running my life and my choices, me or them? Who was right? I hadn’t a clue.
Now, 50 years later, I know I was right. Solitude can be heaven. My ideal holiday would be a whole week staying at home alone with the dog. No outings, no visitors. I have learned this from half a century of scary and knackering holidays and Christmases: the build-up, the great expectations and miserable disappointments, the panics, rows, weeping and general palaver, the terrible sweat over the dinner, the turkey’s giant corpse, my poor mother collapsed on the sofa, weak from sweating over the cooker, nauseated, unable to eat a crumb, and all tainted with guilt. Because we are still waiting for the Messiah and should have been doing Hanukah instead.Now, 50 years later, I know I was right. Solitude can be heaven. My ideal holiday would be a whole week staying at home alone with the dog. No outings, no visitors. I have learned this from half a century of scary and knackering holidays and Christmases: the build-up, the great expectations and miserable disappointments, the panics, rows, weeping and general palaver, the terrible sweat over the dinner, the turkey’s giant corpse, my poor mother collapsed on the sofa, weak from sweating over the cooker, nauseated, unable to eat a crumb, and all tainted with guilt. Because we are still waiting for the Messiah and should have been doing Hanukah instead.
Not all our Christmases have been hellish. We have managed some heavenly, laid-back, low-key Christmases, but although I no longer have parents, my daughter has been away and I have had my chances to just sit here with the dog and stare at a log fire, I’ve never dared try a solitary Christmas again. There is such a thing as society, and it doesn’t seem to like people being alone at Christmas. Not a bad thing. So I go with it. I’ve even pretended to be Father Christmas. I can be an anchorite any other day of the year.Not all our Christmases have been hellish. We have managed some heavenly, laid-back, low-key Christmases, but although I no longer have parents, my daughter has been away and I have had my chances to just sit here with the dog and stare at a log fire, I’ve never dared try a solitary Christmas again. There is such a thing as society, and it doesn’t seem to like people being alone at Christmas. Not a bad thing. So I go with it. I’ve even pretended to be Father Christmas. I can be an anchorite any other day of the year.