This Christmas has been my worst Christmas. It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy my family—I did. I loved being with my children and grandchildren, cooking and baking, shopping for them, wrapping gifts, and everything else. Everything was pretty much picture-perfect. Everyone was there except for one: My grandson Jack was missing this year, which made all the difference.
It’s interesting to me how the loss of one individual can impact a holiday. The void, however, is what does it—the absence of a loved one. He should have been there. He should have received gifts; he should have eaten the prime rib, the cookies, the fudge, and the leftovers, he should have. And yet, he wasn’t there. And that made all the difference. That is why this Christmas was my worst Christmas.
My daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter came on a Sunday evening and spent the week with us. Christmas fell on a Wednesday. Everything leading up to that day was torturous for me. Even Christmas Eve with the family all over felt hollow. We smiled, laughed, ate good food, and told stories. Then, when everyone went home, I cried big sobbing tears. I cried hard. I wanted Jack to be there. It felt odd. Everything felt surreal.
Christmas morning, I woke up crying. As hard as it was, I was determined to be brave for my daughter and granddaughter. I was not going to ruin their day. We watched Sophia open gifts from her parents, had coffee and breakfast, and waited for the rest of the gang to arrive.
I made a prime rib for our afternoon dinner, and we opened gifts while it roasted in the oven. Gifts for us, gifts for them. We did have fun. Our little grandkids can make life pretty great. Afterward, I had one special gift for each grandchild before cleaning up and joining the dining room for dinner. I make a Christmas picture ornament with each grandchild with their cousin Jack. I told them that Jack would always be with us, that we would never forget him and always love him, and that he wouldn’t want us to be sad. Of course, everyone was crying, but I felt they were good tears, healing tears, and tears that acknowledged Jack. I guess I didn’t make going into the dining room very easy. However, we dried our tears and had our meal. However, that seat at the table was where Jack would have sat. Wow, that was hard to deal with; we did it. We dealt with it and made it through.
After dinner, we went to our son’s house, played games, ate good food, and tried hard to have fun. I will be honest here, though: I had a tough time. I missed Jack so much. I just wanted him to be there. And, frankly, I was glad when the whole day was over. It was our first Christmas without him, which was horrible.
We still had three more days with our daughter and her family, and I was determined to make them fun. We shopped often, stayed very busy, and tried hard to enjoy those last few days together.
This will likely be the worst year for us all. We are facing monsters—all the firsts without Jack. However, we are surviving. And I believe we are doing precisely what Jack would want us to do—moving forward with a new normal, living our lives, remembering him, and trying. We are trying. It isn’t easy. So many tears. So much sadness. But we are trying.
Our worst Christmas is over. We will move forward into a new year with happy memories, many photos, and much love for each other.
