WHO CARES? Festive meal out offers food for thought with son who has taught us to be the parents he needs
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As I put fingers to keyboard (pen to paper sounds much more romantic, but a total lie), it’s Boxing Day and I am feeling pretty chilled and relaxed. The festive telly offerings haven’t all stunk, and for the first time, we went out for Christmas lunch to our usual restaurant as it fell on our routine lunch out day.
It’s fascinating to do a bit of people watching and use my writer’s imagination to fill in the blanks on the sort of day others have had judging by their general attitude, what they are saying and how they are reacting to those around them. Whilst we often come across the one loud voice extolling the virtues of their job, their achievements and their financial security, Christmas day was a little different.
It quickly became clear that there were some families where the children had been up for a very long time and the adults’ hold on a level temper was being frayed and would likely have snapped already if they were not out in their finery in public. There were also couples consisting of (I decided without any actual knowledge) friends, mum’s and sons, partners and people who didn’t seem to like each other very much at all. If anything, the larger tables were being enthusiastically Christmassy to a fault, or fraud perhaps, and the smaller ones were being more involved with each other and chatting away more naturally.
Now he’s an adult who, although challenged, can find coping strategies that result in a lovely family Christmas and a mother knowingly typing about the day while chilled is a real result for us. A testament to his own strength of character, and the way he has trained us to be the parents he needs.
As a table of three, where one of them was not eating Christmas dinner, we were overcompensating too having pulled our crackers within the first five minutes of sitting down, including a couple of extra ones furnished by one of the lovely servers who make such occasions a treat. The boy loves cracker jokes as they are so much easier to understand than the convoluted satire and political commentary that my hubby and I enjoy.
So, bedecked in our paper hats we proceeded to eat ourselves to a standstill while the staff worked seamlessly to cope with the influx of large groups all at the same time without missing a beat. I could not do that job in a month of Sundays! Having to be polite to people who are taking ages to make decisions, or who criticise everything and complain where stoicism and empathy would be better bedfellows must mean that they have some kind of pressure valve to release when they go behind closed doors into the kitchen. Bet the dark humour in there would be worth being a very hot fly on the wall for.
We’ve many years of having difficult Christmases with an overwhelmed boy refusing to speak to anyone, presents left wrapped for days because he couldn’t cope with not knowing what he would find when he opened them, and having to leave family homes after a short visit to avoid ruining his experience completely leaving mystified people who just didn’t get him. Now he’s an adult who, although challenged, can find coping strategies that result in a lovely family Christmas and a mother knowingly typing about the day while chilled is a real result for us. A testament to his own strength of character, and the way he has trained us to be the parents he needs.
I hope all of you have found some peace and joy in this strange time of year that tests all families to their limits in one way or another, but some families in ways most will never imagine. Best wishes to you all for the New Year. My usual toast of health, wealth and happiness is never out of place.
Karen is Mum to an autistic son in his twenties and campaigns for the rights of unpaid carers to be supported in their caring role and involved in the decisions that affect their lives and the lives of the people they care for. You can find her on Twitter @Karen4Carers.
