Reading these puts my sad Christmas into perspective.....
My good friend's widowed mother was in hospital; the cancer had returned, and prognosis not good.
He had moved back in with her when she needed looking after, and, unbelievably, there was no telephone in the flat; even though it was 1980's, she'd never felt the need. So with my agreement, he gave the hospital my landline number for emergency contact, and when she was taken into hospital again, moved into my spare room so that he could be contacted more easily in an emergency.
When the phone rings at 6 o'clock on Christmas morning, you know it probably won't be good news. I had to go and fetch him (he would sleep through the Last Trumpet!) and let him chat to the hospital.
I offered to go up with him, but he said he could handle this one on his own, so there I was, at 7 o'clock in the morning, wide awake, needing something to do...... so I stood there, stuffing the bloody turkey, thinking, "Nobody's going to eat this!"........
When he returned, ashen-faced, he decided he'd better let his uncle, her brother , know the sad news, and as it was not far away from where uncle was celebrating Christmas with my friend's cousin and her boyfriend, we set off. As soon as they saw the car pull up, they guessed; they were up to speed on mum's illness.
Eventually, after a very subdued visit, we came back to my house in the late evening. To my horror, I realised that, in all the upset, I'd left the oven on - luckily, on a low setting!
And oddly, after a day of being too grief-stricken to eat (understandably, she was a lovely lady), he suddenly said, "D'you know what, I reckon I could eat some of that turkey!"
The oddest Christmas dinner I've ever had.