A Christmas to remember; and Happy New Year!

Every year for almost eight in a row – with one year’s break for my first bout of leukaemia treatment – I helped to look after disabled people for a week in Lourdes in southwest France with the young Catholic charity the Order of Malta Volunteers. As you can imagine, I wouldn’t have gone so regularly had it not been a particularly special experience (I’ve consequently fulfilled my desire to go to the Edinburgh Festival and Fringe despite having options to perform, watch and even stay before Harriet and Duncan moved to Kuala Lumpur).

The week in Lourdes involves late nights, very early mornings and a lot of hard work, punctuated by regular outbursts of Mass, but is also a great opportunity to really bond with your fellow carers and the Hospital Pilgrims. It’s usually difficult enough to persuade people that a week going under the name of ‘pilgrimage’ is worth doing (unless you’re an enormous music/film fan, I suppose), but it’s even harder when that week involves challenging physical care, not enough sleep and pesky preaching priests preventing you from nodding off during the services.

It is enormously satisfying, however, as well as an incredible learning experience, and many a deep friendship has been forged in the cauldron of the OMV. Upon the group’s return to London, as many as can make it meet up in a pub for a final farewell, and invariably take it onto a restaurant – reluctant to call an end to all it all. My father used to get upset as I seemingly didn’t want to go home, despite having already spent a very full week with the other pilgrims; I would be promising to get on ‘the next train’, which kept becoming the one after that…

Christmas Day this year was another occasion I never wanted to end. With some earlier support from Tom and my father, who made it up to celebrate with canapés at midday prior to returning to my dad’s for their own turkey, Mariacristina put on – what else? – a magnificent spread, only rendered even more impressive by the fact that Italians do things differently, so it was her very first. Delicious, succulent turkey, crispy roasted parsnips and carrots, yummy Brussels sprouts, etc…

And that was just the food. It’s wonderful to be surrounded by family, but having the opportunity to take things in our own time, at our own pace, in our own home, was just beautiful. From the moment of my re-diagnosis, we knew Christmas this year was going to be different, but despite looking forward to spending it together, I don’t think either of us fully appreciated just how much it would mean. The food, the presents, the decorations were all special, but what really made it was being together – we never wanted it to end.

It’s all well and good trying to live your emotional life in the present, and not get bogged down in crying over spilt milk or worrying about events that may or may not happen, but there’s a huge amount of strength to be gained from remembering cherished moments and reliving special memories. Despite everything, or probably more accurately because of everything, 25th December this year was a day that will always shine brightly in the memory.

Incidentally, one strange phenomenon about Lourdes is that despite the lack of sleep, overwhelming tiredness and generally unsubstantive diet, I somehow always managed to look my best at the end of the week, just when I would have expected to be in a state to terrify any unfortunate unlookers. Lourdes isn’t the only occasion when this has happened, though – it’s often difficult to convince Mariacristina just how tired I am, because it’s when I feel most wrecked that somehow my complexion perks up, my skin stays smooth and the bags under my eyes reduce…

I’ve had some unpleasant side effects in the past few days from treatment, not only making me feel generally under the weather, but also preventing my sleeping well, but I’m not sure Mariacristina believes me. We went for a lovely walk on Streatham Common a couple of days ago and she was unimpressed that I looked so healthy; she may have been disappointed, but it was even worse for me, as it undermined my search for sympathy when I was feeling rubbish…

I can count myself lucky, though – the side effects hadn’t kicked in on Christmas Day, so nothing stood in the way of the day being as special as it was. We may not have wanted it to end, but feel blessed to have spent it together, and now look to 2014 for the next challenges and moments of joy…

Happy New Year everybody!