That Time Again

By Karyn Rose Baltetsch

Yes, that time of the year when everyone is meant to be happy-
And l tried to believe, or l wouldn’t receive.
How l wish my mother didn’t tell me the truth- A
ll l did was worry there’d be no money.
And isn’t it funny how every Christmas Eve my mother would leave,
be gone all day so with my father we’d stay.
When the lounge room door closed, we were told not to move—
Didn’t that prove she was hiding something suspicious—
or something delicious—
Even though we’d not been fed since we got out of bed.
Of course, the beer was stacked up for our father before Christmas.
Couldn’t he wait ‘til the day to celebrate?
Funny how we had a golden fake Christmas tree—
And were we supposed to think it was real?
Once l knew there was no Santa, I felt responsible, worried—
A child doing the dirty work of an irresponsible parent.
Funny how we would open our gifts while he lay in his bed,
And line up in a row to go in and show him.
I didn’t even know him—
l was trembling with fear.
The happiest day of the year was spoilt with him
choosing to eat with us.
Not good enough any other day of the year but he had to
spoil our Christmas cheer.
Drunken and swaying and the tree goes flying—
And so does my mother or sister or brother—
The golden tree lying on the floor beside the lounge room door.
When bedtime came, a Christmas kiss was too much to expect.
Any happiness or gifts by the evening were wrecked. By him.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Karyn developed her gift of writing from an early age.  Her love for writing was an outlet to her feelings, her hopes and dreams.
Karyn has three sons and five grandsons. It brings her much joy to see them sharing her passion for creativity and the written word.