20 years worth of photographs. Baby clothes. Baby equipment. My childhood memorabilia. Ruined. Of course we are grateful our house wasn’t flooded, like our neighbour’s, and by lunchtime another was still scooping water out of her car. We are grateful for the losses we haven’t incurred but that doesn’t negate the sadness over what we have. Wading through freezing water trying to salvage what we could while still tending to my mother was a new kind of challenge. I’m glad today never has to be lived again.
After visiting the local food bank to donate some food – a new annual tradition for me and the girls- we spent a couple of hours chasing down enough morphine to keep my mom going through Christmas – or local supplier is out of stock,and few pharmacies carry large supplies, it seems.
I was determined to salvage some Christmas Spirit. Don’t think me strong or brave though. If it wasn’t for the children I’d have holed myself up in the room with a large supply of mulled wine and brandy, like an old man with a brown bag problem!
Instead we went to a Christingle service. We made a gingerbread house from scratch. We wrapped the last of the presents. The girls opened their stockings. We laid out food for reindeer. I prepared a meal for tomorrow. And I shared the mulled wine.
Tomorrow will be Christmas. Apart from my mom and I not a creature is stirring. Santa has come and gone. We are waiting for nurses to arrive to increase her morphine as she is in to much pain to sleep. It’s 3.30am on the longest Christmas eve of my life.