12th night and I'm really sad now, I spent a long time carefully solemnly taking down all my precious things from the Christmas tree. When I put them up at the beginning of December it's all hopes and discovery again. I remember the year they were each made or bought or brought home from school, by my sons, so proud of something they had glued together or that one time I found a felt Robin rammed into a coat pocket and bent out of shape because they had been in a rush. The ones I bought for my late mother and second or third hand ones given me when I had my first tree on my own. Those ones are happy memories, it's a time full of creativity and ideas for how to make things pretty and add a bit of magic to darker days.

12th night is different, the magic seems to fade and the fairy lights turn out for the last time. The tinsel looks dusty and the shelves are empty where I stood the music boxes and the angels made of glass. Each memory now seems melancholy and sad and I take a look at them all carefully incase I don't see them again. There may be a breakage and I know my sons don't think having a tree is even necessary. They laugh at me getting sentimental and sad. If they saw me with a tear they roll their eyes and say it doesn't matter they're just things mum.

Why do Christmas things evoke a strong wave of nostalgia? Because it's not their value, it's the times that we shared that they don't remember! I enjoyed the magic of having two toddlers fascinated by the footprints I made with white glitter coming from the chimney place. The excited squeals noticing a bite out of the carrot we left out. Their faces lit up over the tree lights being turned on the first night. I have these memories that they don't have. Will they throw away the slightly melted plastic fairy who was on my mother's childhood tree in the 60s? She holds a mended wand now, made from a cocktail stick. Will they crush the faded tissue paper I've kept her in and say it's rubbish... Or the Santa I sewed bugle beads onto to make a sparkly beard. The cotton thread on the treeskirt is coming loose, made from some old red velvet curtains. But I still love it. Am I the only one who treasures broken things that have no value to anyone else?

I'm in bed now and I don't want Christmas to end, anymore than I did when I was a child. Grumpy people I work with say thank God it's over with, or don't bother decorating then you don't have to put them away. It hurts me to hear that, because they've missed the whole point. They've missed even a little bit of fun or sillyness, adults can be silly without needing to be drunk I mean. Laying here wondering what the next few weeks will be like, drab and dreary weather, still quite long nights, though each day will be a little longer before dark. I wonder if I'll be here next year or if this one will be the one that defeats me.

We have to be hopeful and pick ourselves up each morning ready to fight the good fight, but tonight as I sigh and try to settle all those disturbing thoughts by writing it down, I need a shoulder to lean on. A warmhqnd to hold or a strong arm around me. Being a sentimental fool is a drain, don't judge me harshly, give me some of your strength for a while and I will pay you back.

Do I have some glitter on my nose? I can see something, but I'm going crosseyed. A nose boop is allowed. Am I silly for shedding a tear for the times changing and moving on? Look to the future and maybe there's a new kind of magic when the sun brings back life to things. Yes yes, but what about tonight? It's dark and windy outside... :(

keep me safe next to you snuggled up tight. Ok you can turn off the light.

Xooooxxxxooooxxxxooooo :'( oh sod it. :'(