I don’t like New Year’s Eve. I’ve always found it to be depressing. To begin, it’s the end of Christmas. The decorations come down shortly after and it’s back to work again. And January is a miserable month.

I know that’s it’s all about fresh starts and new resolutions but at midnight I always think about the previous year. This year will be particularly sad because my father died a few months ago. Grief is a funny thing. The pain of it is physical and you think you’ll never get over it. When the rawness subsides you’re left with a numbness that is somehow worse. Then one day you realise that you haven’t thought about him for a few a hours and you feel guilty and long for the sharp pain again. A few days slip by and then a week and then months and you just want to claw them all back because you don’t want it to be months since he was here.

So tonight when the ball drops I’ll think of my dad. And tomorrow I’ll say, my father died last year.

It’s Christmas Eve.  The presents are all wrapped, the house is gleaming and all is calm.  I used to hate Christmas Eve as a child.  I became so excited that I just couldn’t sleep and the night stretched out and went on and on . . . .  I was always the first up on Christmas morning because I hadn’t slept a wink.  My mum used to give me a time limit.  I couldn’t wake her until 7.00. 

I’d go into my sister’s room at 5.00 in the morning and whisper, ‘Are you awake?  Cas, are you awake?’  And she’d reply, ‘I bloody am now.’  We’d play board games until it was time to get up.  One year I even put the clocks forward an hour.  Worked like a charm but note, this can only be used once.

Now I’m all grown up I quite like Christmas Eve.  I still get excited but somehow manage to contain myself and get a good nights sleep.   We still get up early on Christmas morning to open the presents, though Lord Levy pretends to object. 

If you’re reading this tonight, have a very merry Christmas.  And turn off your bloody computers, crack open the wine and watch some Christmas telly. 

And mum and Cas, calloo callay – sleep tight, I’ll phone you in the morning.