Trevor Laffan: I’m a grinch, but there was one festive hug I’ll cherish forever

Is Christmas all it’s cracked up to be? I’m not so sure, but it is almost upon us.

Not for everyone though is it ‘the season to be jolly, tra la la la.’ For many, it’s a time of stress. A time when they would prefer to crawl under the bed and remain there until the middle of January.

I’m not one of those exactly, but there is a touch of the Grinch in me.

I don’t like noise, I don’t like being in crowds, and I don’t like being expected to have a good time when I’m not in the mood. ‘It’s Christmas Eve, you will enjoy yourself!’ ‘It’s New Year’s Eve, we’re going to a party and we’re going to have a great time!’

Well, maybe we’re not!!!

It’s also a time for the obligatory office parties and work nights out. These are no longer an issue for me, and thank goodness for that. Having to leave the comfort of my recliner to go out in the cold was a pain. Travelling to the city and making my way through the hordes of drunken revellers to get to the venue was the next challenge, and the discomfort didn’t end there.

The real battle began with the trek to the bar for a drink, forging a path through the throng of party-goers dressed in their Santa hats and jumpers, while trying to avoid getting soaked from the spillages.

All this was taking place in the intense heat and endless noise which made conversation impossible.

Nothing in that scenario was enjoyable for me.

That’s no reflection on the people I was meeting at these gatherings. It was purely the environment that I found oppressive.

In the coming weeks, the drink will be flowing again. Alcohol will be the centre piece of the festivities for some and that will cause misery for others.

We don’t handle drink very well as a nation at the best of times, but we seem to give ourselves a free pass to go overboard with the stuff over this holiday period.

There will be family rows too, and during my time in An Garda Síochána I attended many of them. Booze was never too far removed from the conversation.

Christmas is often portrayed as the happiest time of year, and it should be for children, but it’s not always the case for adults. There is enormous pressure on people to create the perfect Christmas which, is tough these days with inflation driving up the prices of everything.

Christmas shopping was always stressful for me. I never knew what to buy and usually ended up running around the city on Christmas Eve about half an hour before the shops closed, frantically trying to find something appropriate.

Looking back on it now, I see how daft that was.

I can’t remember a single present I bought, and I don’t remember many of the presents I received either.

I do have some outstanding memories of Christmas events though and none of them involve presents, which makes me wonder how important gifts are anyway in the grand scheme of things?

One memory that jumps out at me regularly when I think of Christmas happened many years ago when I was working. It was Christmas Eve, and I was on duty on Oliver Plunket Street in Cork city.

I was standing on a corner in full uniform when suddenly, I saw this guy heading in my direction. He was a young lad with Down Syndrome, and I knew him well.

He had a big smile on his face, and he came straight over to me and without any inhibition whatsoever, threw his arms around me and gave me a big hug. He caught me completely by surprise and it was a special moment. I’ve never forgotten that, and I smile whenever I think of it.

Another memory involves a photo of a Christmas dinner being eaten in our house from years ago. It shows my parents and Gaye’s mother sitting with us and the children around the table. We looked like we were having a good time, which isn’t surprising because they were all good company.

Alas, the three of them are no longer with us now, but at least we still have the memory.

I presume gifts were exchanged, but I have no recollection of what they were, but I will never forget the people.

We spent last Christmas in Australia with our daughter Vicki, her husband Ian, and the three grandchildren. It was a long haul getting there, but well worth the effort.

We had presents for the kids from many relatives back home, but for us the high point was just being there with them. Nothing else mattered.

I do have one memory of giving a present, although I didn’t realise I was actually giving it at the time.

It happened back in my Chernobyl days when we used to drive humanitarian aid convoys to Belarus and western Russia.

Simon Walsh is a guy who dedicated his life back then to trying to improve the situation for those unfortunate children in that part of the world in the aftermath of the nuclear disaster. On one occasion, we were in one of the many institutions for orphaned children which were mostly terrible places and unfit for purpose. The kids there had literally nothing.

Simon came up to me and asked me for my watch. I didn’t question why he wanted it, I just handed it over. Later when I went looking for it, I discovered he had given it to a young lad who was without one. Simon’s own watch had met with a similar end.

I did take some pleasure from that donation even though I really had nothing to do with it.