You have to look hard in our culture to find anything that captures the complications and even pain of Christmas
Driving through Victoria this week, and the farms are emerald with recent rain, but my friend is agitated because we’re lost. As navigator I’ve punched in the wrong street to Google maps, and we are flying blind into a maze of secondary roads.
We can’t be late for a funeral.
We had been talking in the car about how Christmas can be a perilous time. My friend is an ambulance officer and tells me the call out rates for suicides are high this time of the year. We fall silent. This funeral we’re racing to is for a young man who ended his life at 21. We’re friends with his parents yet on the journey down we can hardly talk about it. We start conversations that quickly splutter to a stop.
from The Guardian http://bit.ly/2V1cnxF
via
0 Comments