T -62 days: 2 months today, Christmas unmarried

For the first 18 Christmases of my life I was a single man.

For the next 13 I wasn’t.

For the 5 Christmases after that I felt single even if I wasn’t. But mostly I was.

This Christmas was something of a contrast. It passed in a contented whirl. Splitting three celebratory days across three locations, I found myself at home on the night of the 25th. Home alone. And not in a Culkin way.

As I went to bed I noticed the odd but satisfying serenity in feeling happily alone and yet not.

This is the last Christmas I will be unmarried. Ever.

I feel a daunted excitement even on typing that. Knowing that every Christmas eve, day and boxing day from now on will involve a heady mix of Ayers’s and Clough/McVeys … So different and so similar. And sometimes none of the above when myself and the FMA escape to foreign lands.

You know sometimes you don’t know how a decision will feel, and it’s only when the decision is made that you can tell? Well…

For the next 50 or so Christmases I’ll be with my wife and our family.
Which is nice.

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