3.30a.m. Christmas Morning

Hmm, I choose this of all nights not to be able to sleep! I think it's anticipation: a left-over from childhood that remains with me as the eternal spark of Christmas as it should be.

Looking out of the kitchen window, the world looks very peaceful and still. The road is quiet and the lights reflect perfectly off the river where the water lays as still as the night itself.

There is a dangerous melancholy about me. The peace has lulled my brain into unguarded thinking.Instead of dwelling on the wonderment of children waking to the excitement of presents and THE day being finally here, I think of the way Christmas has become. Please someone, reassure me that kids still experience the magic that cynical adulthood has crushed - or, perhaps, misplaced?

Maybe I'm just too old for it all? I watched EastEnders tonight with all its careful preparation for the chaos characteristic of Albert Square life and was totally immune to the implosions of families apparently to come. Then I saw the Salvation Army band playing carols in the Square and got totally emotional.

Now I'm not a greatly religious person but part of Christmas is still hearing the chapters in Luke's Gospel . There is something comforting about the constant of the words and the message contained within. I hear Wham! or Slade and feel nothing - Oh Come All Ye Faithful or Silent Night serve not only as a reminder of a life of past Christmases but carry a beauty which, to me, is so totally perfect and totally evocative of a moment. A moment that makes me hope that mankind can live together.

I've posted very little over the past few days. I have held my thoughts and emotions in check. The question: Is this because I can't let myself get too excited for fear of disappointment or I don't feel I deserve to be allowed the pleasure of "joining in"?

Anyway, it is of no consequence now, Christmas is here and I shall be spending a full day, surrounded by people. It should be great.

Yesterday I only managed 5 Christmas kisses (and one of those was from a bloke!). I must be slipping!

Maybe this year is strange because of Dad. I think of him a lot as he so loved Christmas. I can't honestly say I miss him - but I miss what he represents. I suppose Christmas is a bit like that too.

Happy Christmas XXX