The Other Side of Christmas



For many years I worked in ICU, the Boxing day shift heavy with tragedy and food. I want to thank the 000 workers who never rest providing emergency help every day of the year. The Festive season is a frantic time for them.

The Other Side of Christmas

Red and blue lights dance on the Christmas tree. Mama loves soft yellow. Through closed eyes I hear murmurs, voices, ‘Are you okay? What’s your name?’ Red and blue lights and children’s squeals of delight, tearing madly around the tree hyped on sugar. Gift wrap gay and inspirational, a symptom of multi-cultural Australia. No snow just cold metal pushing into my right cheek.

Blur, red and blue lights and foot steps, clunky boots, steel capped no doubt. Carols sung in the Lutheran Church, kids dressed up as kings. Angels with blonde hair and pink lipstick, softly spoken, ‘I just want to make sure you are alright.’ Gifts little bags, Channel, Tom Ford, Estee Lauder, affordable luxuries of the would-be, aspiring-to middle classes. It’s been a lifetime since then.

The angel wears teal and epaulettes. Red and blue lights halo her Marilyn Monroe hairdo. Her had touches mine and I see my frayed fingers in her manicured hand. She touches my hand and my heart opens its rusty door. Unity. Her heart is breaking while mine is long broken. Red and blue lights on the Christmas tree as we kids rummage among the lolly wrappers on the floor.

I lost myself years ago amidst the booze and pills  but she opened my heart with her red and blue lights.




Hoping to see you again in 2018, as I continue to explore my voice and complete my second book. Thank you for your ongoing support.

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