Dear Carolynn

A Life In a Day

It’s 2.11pm, December 25 2025 and I’m sitting here in my little house with Quirky while wishing this day would hurry up and end. The quiet is driving me mad and all I can hear are my thoughts while Quirky is asking me, ‘What are you doing?” If I was in the mood to answer him, I’m not sure I’d have anything to say. Therefore, I felt I should do something, and that something is write my thoughts. Whatever goes through my head.

It’s been three months since my brother died. Funny how things can trigger us. I was doing alright until I heard the news that Chris Rea died on the 22nd. I’ve never been a huge Rea fan, but, as with Kirsty MacColl’s horrific death (18/12/2000), they both had recorded non-traditional Christmas songs–Driving Home for Christmas and Fairytale of New York, and died just before Christmas. Their deaths, like my brother’s feel completely unfair.

Ironic that the video of Driving Home for Christmas was aired almost to the day of Kirsty MacColl’s death.

My thoughts of Chris Rea always go back to Fool (If You Think It’s Over) from 1978 when I was 17 going on 18. During the time of Disco and Punk Rock, his song stood out as a beacon of hope for me who was not that successful at love. Nowadays it takes me back to simpler times–great times too with my brother and our mates. We were young and completely unprepared for what life is really all about. A bit like being a child at Christmas, I guess.

Some of us have died, and many of us have lost a parent or parents, as well as at least one sibling. All of the fun memories about what Christmas Day used to stand for actually hurt at the moment. No surprises there, of course. The ‘firsts’ of anything after a loved on dies will hurt, but I haven’t really enjoyed Christmas Day since he late ’80’s when the partying as a close group ended. Although, I did enjoy Christmas 1997 when I spent it with Adrienne (former partner) and her family. It was a hoot. They made me honorary Santa and I was tasked with giving out the gifts. It surprised me then, and still does now that I enjoyed that day so much.

My late father was a newspaper reporter. Back in the days when going out and getting stories was what it was all about. Dad and his colleagues were hard drinking newspaper people and this was the environment I grew up in. All the media people, their families and close family friends would gather every year at an Eagle Junction house or a New Farm one, both here in Brisbane. Media and entertainment people not only knew how to party, they imparted their wisdom and experience down the line, and I shall be forever grateful. Man, I loved my childhood!

We kids had a hoot of a time as the adults slowly lost track of us as the hours ticked by. We were not silly kids putting ourselves at any real risk, and the adults knew we were sensible enough to take care of ourselves. It was fun to not have to worry about adult supervision. Those days were so enjoyable.

Move forward a few years and we kids became young adults old enough to drink. So, we joined in. Just as always, the food was never ending, the booze was never ending–and, for some of us, the weed was never ending. After all, it was the late 70’s and early 80’s. That was the culture, but the weed wasn’t dangerous like it is today.

In 1987, my father died. The ‘adult’ adults slowed down, people moved away, the media industry changed and we ‘kid’ adults found partners and some went on to marry, have kids, divorce and start all over again. Not me, though. Plans are what happens to you when you are busy living life.

Christmas Day means two things to me. (1) it’s a public holiday, and (2) the day before Day 1 of the Boxing Day Test match(cricket) in Melbourne where 90 plus thousand people pack into the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG), just as it will tomorrow–and even bigger when it’s an Ashes series against the ‘old enemy’, England that offers up memorable moments like Scott Boland’s 6 wickets for 7 runs in 2021. Australia has already retained The Ashes and now it’s up to England to (yet again) play for pride.

Now with my brother gone, my mother having alzheimers and my sister not welcomed into of my world, today, for me is all about a frozen meal heated in the microwave and patiently waiting for the Boxing Day test to start. Maybe, I might have a few beers tonight and play some music–but I’m a bit concerned the music might be melancholy because of how I feel.

I know quite a few people who today will have at least one empty chair that wasn’t empty last year. I also know others around the world will be dealing with this too. As with every year.

I genuinely have no idea where it has all gone? From 0 to 40 went pretty slow. From 40 to now has flown and that’s 25 of these December 25 days that feel like 25 days I’d like to erase.

And then there is always one thing you can almost be certain of on a Queensland Christmas Day. The heat and humidity brings the cooling afternoon electrical storm. I can hear the thunder in the background. The sky goes dark and that means Quirky puts himself to bed earlier than usual.

With those random thoughts expressed, I might get myself one of those frozen meals, give Quirky a treat so I am not fighting to protect my food from the constantly hungry Quaker Parrot and maybe watch a movie.

As I often write and say, live today like it’s your last. Be cool and be safe wherever you are in the world.

And for England cricket lovers…I’m sorry. Well, not really but thank you for inventing the game, and also I thank the British empire of the late 1700’s and early 1800’s for not sending Piers Morgan’s ancestors here as convicts. I’m glad you have that whiney piece of misery and we got the fun ones.

Peace and out.