There were no crackers this Christmas Day.
Only whispers round the table and sad faces
Trying to cope with the news
That Christmas was supposed to be happy.
But it was two things, and one was sad.
This Christmas Day we visited the graveyard.
Hearts hand in hand and cold breath
The sun lit up the tombstones
And we watered the flowers on your grave
I counted the days since we'd lost you.
It was 9 yesterday, 10 today.
We're into double digits now.
Boxing day has always been the day we visited your house,
And we still will.
Though the sofa might look funny now that you aren't sitting in it.
Your funeral ended on Christmas Eve
And we went home late, put out carrots for the reindeers and biscuits for Santa
And read about Kipper the Dog with stockings on the end of our beds.
It's the same every year.
Except it isn't.
Because this year we'll be bringing two Christmas presents to your home,
And there'll be no Christmas tree, just memories
of the prayers that were sung there two days ago,
to a room full of deep set faces
And somebody else sat in your chair.