Dear Journal,
Christmas without my mom has been hard. This first Christmas without her has brought so many emotions over the past few days—feelings I wouldn’t have expected until I was suddenly living them.
My kids, especially my youngest four-year-old, are having a hard time missing Nana. Talking about going to Nana and Papa’s for the holidays has been especially difficult, and my youngest keeps repeating how much she misses Nana. I don’t want to ignore her feelings. I hope she can remember Nana forever. Each time she says she misses her, I share photos of the beautiful memories we made together. I hope those moments help keep Nana alive in her heart.
Christmas Eve is always a big, formal gathering with my husband’s entire family. My father-in-law is one of five siblings, and all five families come together every year. It’s something I’ve always admired—the consistency of gathering for special occasions, something my family didn’t always have growing up.
This year, though, I chose to stay home. I told my husband to take the kids so they could enjoy the tradition and Santa’s visit. I didn’t want to take that magic from them.
I knew I couldn’t mentally prepare myself for that party. Being in a house with fifty-ish people, surrounded by laughter and small talk, and repeatedly being asked how I was doing filled me with anxiety. I knew I’d be miserable and didn’t want to force a smile for six-plus hours. So while my family went out, I stayed home. I prepared the house for Santa, turned on a mushy movie, and wrapped presents quietly. It was exactly what I needed—and for once, I didn’t feel guilty about it.
Christmas Day always starts at our house. When I first had kids, I told my parents and in-laws that Christmas morning would always be ours. As much as I wanted to be with my dad, I wanted to honor the tradition we built.
The kids ran through the paper hallway with excitement—maybe more than ever before—and opened their presents. It was a perfect Christmas morning at home.
Afterward, we cleaned up, took down the real tree, and packed up for my dad’s house. Three hours later, we arrived, and nothing could have prepared me for that moment.
While unpacking, I found myself talking with my dad as he finished wrapping gifts. He stood there staring at me, tears filling his eyes. I said, “I think you need a big hug.” He replied, “You just remind me so much of your mom.” We hugged for a long time, crying together. I finally said, “Well, I am half her.” I didn’t know what else to say.
I hate and love that I remind him of her.
Normally, I wear my hair straight, but that day I arrived with it curly. My mom had the most beautiful curly hair. As soon as I finished my final card, I went and straightened it. A quiet note to myself—next time, do my hair before arriving at my dad’s.
The rest of the day passed quickly and unexpectedly ended with an ER visit for my oldest. Thankfully, her CT scan was clear, though she left with three staples in her head. That was certainly one way to stop me from thinking about my mom—at least briefly.
Being back in the ER was hard. It was the same place she went after her stroke. While the space felt new to us now, I know my mom was with us, guiding us through it.
Reflecting on these past few days, I’m proud of myself for setting boundaries during my first Christmas without my mom. I’m grateful for the time with my family—and just as grateful for the time I allowed myself alone.
I’m learning that I can’t do everything. I’m learning that I need space for reflection. This Christmas reminded me of that. It was exactly what I needed… even if I could have done without the ER visit.
It will always be a Christmas to remember.
With love,
The Shattered & Glowing Mama