Ray Kelly dreads venturing into shops in the run-up to Christmas. The decorations and the festive atmosphere do not bother him, but he cannot stand the music: It Will Be Lonely This Christmas breaks his heart every time he hears it, while Silent Night never fails to reduce him to tears.

As he carefully picks out presents for his children, the 37-year-old Tallaght dad cannot help wondering how lonely and silent will Christmas be for him this year. There are thousands like him: the breakdown of their marriages or relationships means they will see their kids for only a short time on Christmas Day - perhaps only an hour or two, or maybe not at all.

Kelly does not know how he has survived Christmas in the six "extremely hard" years since the break-up of his relationship with the mother of his two daughters Elizabeth (15) and Grace (9).

"Christmas is dreadful," he says. "I hate it. I really, really, really hate it. Although I get to see the kids for a few hours in the afternoon, I never see them on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning."

When he is not with his three children - he also has a 16-year-old son, Alan, from a previous relationship - Kelly tries to spend Christmas Day with other people. One year, after leaving the children back home, Kelly found it was too much returning to an empty house. "I broke down and collapsed on the floor," he says. "The tears were flowing down my face and I exhausted myself so much I ended up staying in bed until four o'clock on St Stephen's Day. I had such a sense of depression and loneliness."

Last year he organised a demonstration to highlight the plight of those in the same situation: 55 people stood on O'Connell Bridge at 12 noon on Christmas Day. There could be an even bigger turnout at a similar event this year.

"For some it was the only opportunity they had to wish their children or grandchildren, nephews or nieces a happy Christmas - by holding up banners which they hoped would be caught on the Irish Times internet camera. The tears that were shed that morning were unbelievable."

In 1996 Kelly set up a support group called Tallaght Unmarried Fathers - now broadened to the Separated and Unmarried Parents of Ireland.

Dishing out encouragement and advice on a daily basis, he claims to have clocked up 20,000 calls in the past six years. He knows exactly what his callers are going through.

"They feel like they've just buried their children because to take away a child from any parent is like a death.

"Our protest is not against the mothers of our children, but against the court system. Some men are only awarded one hour's access a week.

"Some feel society has let them down so badly they've no alternative but to take to the rope. I know six people who have committed suicide in the past six months because they haven't been getting to see their kids."

Kelly himself was driven to depression and thoughts of suicide when he was initially awarded only six hours access a week. Now, however, he has "shared responsibility" and the children spend half the time with him.

"We talk about anything and everything," he says. "We tell stories, we sing and we're always joking. We talk about what's going on in school and I help them with their homework.

"It doesn't take much to give your kids a kiss and a hug and say 'I love you', but that's probably the best present you can give them. After all, a parent's love is the most natural, pure and unconditional love that there is," he says.

The Separated and Unmarried Parents of Ireland may be contacted on (01) 451 4295 or (087) 645 6639.