Our third Christmas without you beckons. I never thought I’d make it through one let alone three, yet here we are. Less than a week away and the build up still feels like there’s something missing. That last piece of excitement, of completeness, of you.
Christmas was your favourite time of the year. You absolutely squirreled and saved to make sure we all had the best time. Traditions down to what we ate, what we wore and even when walking the dog – it was all there. But we’ve broken those. They aren’t the same anymore. Nothing is.
This year though I am excited for Christmas. The girls are three and a half and this years really has been the first where they are right there feeling the joy and exhilaration that Christmas makes kids feel. I am loving seeing their faces each day as we count down the days. But it’s so hard.
They had their nursery Christingle on Friday and it was hard as I really felt the missing part there. I swat in the church where they were christened just two months before you passed away. Ironically it was the vicar who took your funeral who did it! Your best friend was there with her granddaughter.We both felt it. You did everything together so this would have been the first of many where you sat back and were such proud Granny’s together. But as we walked up the street together your loss felt enormous. It’s so hard knowing what you are missing out on. Not only that, but what the kids are. Granny made sure she made Christmas perfect and magical and I don’t feel I can quite manage it.
It really is true; big occasions such as birthdays and Christmas are the hardest. You gather your family around but you were the biggest part of the family and we all are scratting around trying to know what to do. You were the one holding us all together and I feel like I’m dropping the ball. Caught up in my own grief and loss that it’s hard to remember to smile. But I will, because you’d bollock me for being a misery on the kids Christmas Day!
You are never far from our thoughts. Amy got you some beautiful festive flowers. The girls loved decorating for you. I miss you every day but our third Christmas seems harder somehow. Harder because I know that the years are racking up since we last spent one together. And knowing there’ll never be another, is often too hard to stomach.