NO ONE tells you about the sewing…

I never expected to be a ‘lone parent’. But life is life and it happened and being a dad is the best job I’ve ever had.

There are benefits to being on your own – you don’t have to negotiate issues like bedtimes, pocket money, computer time, and where to go on holiday with someone else; you’re the final arbiter.

On the other hand when there are disputes about bedtimes, pocket money, computer time and where you go on holiday, there’s no one to appeal to for support. And when your child has difficulties; with school, peer relationships, or growing up, dealing with them on your own can be lonely.

And then there’s the sewing.

Thursday night. ‘Dad, the band’s playing in a concert on Monday, I need a dinner jacket and black shirt. But doesn’t need to be an expensive one because I’ll only use it a few times and grow out of it.’

‘Son, this is Salisbury; where am I going to get a dinner jacket and black shirt by Monday? I was 35 when I bought my first dinner jacket; you need one at 13?!’

‘Well, we could always hire one….’

I work full time. I don’t have the time to pound the streets. Thank God for the internet. A few clicks of the mouse and the computer yielded a dinner jacket, black trousers and shirt.

Next day delivery. Shirt good. Jacket good. Trousers – a foot too long (that’s 30 cm for those born after 1971). A needle and thread job.

Everything else about being a lone parent I can manage. Sometimes it’s lonely, but you get used to it. Nothing, though, makes me feel less competent, more adrift and more on my own than a needle and thread.

So painstakingly and eschewing all the other jobs I’d lined up for the weekend, I shortened and hemmed the trousers and sewed on three name labels. It took most of Sunday afternoon. Fortunately, because everything was black, the spots of blood (an integral part of my sewing technique) didn’t show.

It’s often the little things that become the biggest problems. I remember my mother in tears after my father died because she didn’t know where the petrol went in the car; she’d never filled it up. And Christmas cards arriving addressed to them both made her cry – she dreaded even picking them off the mat.

Christmas, full of family memories and traditions, can be a hard time of year for those facing the loss of someone close – a loved one who’s died; a child who’s left home; the loneliness of a family break up. It’s so often the smallest things that make you feel the biggest loss. So be kind to yourself this Christmas. Be gentle and understanding with others. No one tells you about the little things…