Christmas isn't like a Hallmark movie

Sadly, Christmas really isn't like a Hallmark movie, where everything works out perfectly. For a start, most of us don't have a detached country manor house/perfect thatched cottage/massive Georgian terrace covered in sparklingly tasteful Christmas lights. We're not all surrounded by cosy families who enjoy carol singing at the village church, pulling expensive crackers at the Christmas feast while eating perfectly cooked turkey with all the trimmings off perfectly matching plates. The kind of Christmas where the worst that will happen is a car gets stuck in snow, or a kitten needs rescuing from the roof, before everyone opens their gloriously wrapped presents under a twelve foot, seamlessly decorated Christmas tree - and we all get exactly what we want. 

Real Christmas is different. Few of us have the traditional nuclear family with 2.2 children who agree about everything. Of course we don't. There are so many variations on what constitutes a family, and  however it's comprised, probably 90% of family Christmases need some careful planning to avoid all the potential minefields. Even a turkey can be contentious. Family arguments demonstrate in microcosm how international warfare begins. 

And people on their own don't necessarily escape these tensions. If you're isolated and lonely, even a bun fight can look good from the outside. (Of course in a Hallmark movie, you'd be on a fabulous beach holiday somewhere, avoiding the family and meeting the love of your life).  The point is, Christmas is rarely perfect for anyone. But if you're dreading the coming onslaught, it's really worth looking for all the positives. 

The run up to our Christmas has started badly. My father, age 96, had a bad fall a couple of weeks ago and ended up in hospital for 10 days - which has turned a fiercely independent, stubborn old man into an even more stubborn, but far frailer, version of himself.  The fall was partly caused by dizziness from blood loss - and sadly, it turns out he has mouth cancer. Anyway, he's out of hospital now and we need to work out a way to look after him going forward. Death is a part of life, and we're all going down the one-way street - sooner rather than later when you're 96. It's all about making the best of it.

In the meantime, my father's selective deafness to sensible advice, his forgetfulness - especially about anything he doesn't want to remember - combined with unfiltered rudeness to anyone trying to help if he doesn't agree with them, has complicated things. Trying to sort any kind of care package for him before Christmas, when he thinks he doesn't need one and takes every possible risk to prove it -  sums up our current dilemma in a nutshell. 

In fact even as I write this, he's sneaked out to drive his car (yes, a very frail, deaf and wobbly 96 year-old man, driving a car with two flat tyres and a smashed wing mirror hanging by a thread) to the garage. How did this happen? I was on my phone to someone for 10 minutes and he seized his chance. On the plus side, he's taking it to the garage to get the wing mirror fixed, and to ask them to pump his tyres while he's there. I'm just hoping he doesn't kill anyone or fall over again while he's out... 

And believe it or not, some real positives have come out of his situation. Firstly, NHS staff. These people are saints. I encountered them every day my father was in hospital, watching them deal with any number of very sick, old, frightened patients and relatives, with endless patience and genuine kindness - even though the hospital was understaffed and everything around them was chaos. They should be beatified. 

Then there's the kindness of relatives and neighbours. My own family has been fantastic, and the support from extended family (especially a step family I hardly know) and my father's neighbours has been amazing. People really want to help in whatever way they can. It seems everyone jumps at the opportunity to help someone in need, and that's been really heartwarming.

We're unlikely to have a perfect Hallmark Christmas, and things could still go horribly wrong (and very possibly will if my dad keeps driving) but my faith in humanity is surprisingly high. Friends call to offer sympathy. People offer to shop for him when family can't be around. Most of his neighbours are good people, even if they did vote for Brexit. And I'm learning to be less judgemental. 

I'll let you know how it goes when we reach the other side.  Meanwhile, hope you all have a very happy festive season, however you celebrate, wherever you are, and whatever your circumstances. And if you're not having a Hallmark Christmas, don't despair. Sometimes reality isn't so bad.

PS. My dad made it back from the garage, wing mirror still flapping, tyres still flat. He'd got the day wrong. Now I'm the bad person, thinking of hiding his car keys... and maybe writing him into a different kind of Christmas movie.

Lu Hersey

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