We had such good Christmas’ when my sister and I were kids, the lounge would be full of presents and my mum would be more excited than us watching us open them. The house would smell of Christmas cooking whilst Emily and I would play with our new toys, or try on our new clothes. Mum always had more presents than us, she was a mobile hairdresser and had tonnes of clients who would shower her with beautiful gifts. It hurts to buy presents knowing that she’s not on my list to buy for this year. I dread writing my Christmas cards because I know there’s not one for her. When we were kids, we listened to Christmas songs by Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, I found myself having these songs on repeat, they bring back some great memories of us singing together in the car, or at church. It is so upsetting, because that’s all they are, memories.
Christmas is a time for families, a time for celebration and reflection, and a time to tell everyone how much we love and appreciate them. Whilst I’m lucky that I have a great family around me, the emptiness of not having my mum here overpowers everything. I don’t want to leave 2016 behind, even though it has been the darkest year of my life, it’s the last year that mum was here, 2017 is something that she will never experience, and that’s heart breaking for me. I know I have to look forward and move on, but it is more difficult than I could ever explain. How can people just carry on with their day to day lives when I’m stuck at 31st May at 8:27?
A mother-daughter relationship is different to anything else, mothers shape our identities, and they will always know you better than you know yourself. When they are no longer here, there is an infinite void that can never be filled. I still find myself pulling my phone out of my pocket and trying to call her, only to remember that she won’t answer. There is so much I want to tell her, I want to hear her advice, I miss her guidance in my life. I can’t even think about how much she will miss out on without crying, she should be here to see me get married and to be a grandmother to my children.
People say that it gets better with time, is that really true? For me, no. The pain is just as raw, I’m a motherless daughter trying to claw back any sense of normality back into my life. I’m not afraid to say that I have secluded myself from everyone, I’m not as social as I once was, it’s exhausting having to put on a front all of the time so it’s just easier to take a step back. Grief is very private, and it changes a person. You will never go back to how you were before, as you are always trying to find a way to live without the person who meant everything to you.
So my first Christmas without my mum… I have decorated the tree in her fashion, I have poinsettias all over my house as she did, and I wrap my presents with the same intricacy that she used to, with the biggest most obnoxious bows for show. I am cooking Christmas dinner and surrounding myself with people, and champagne (of course) as she would. I am trying my hardest to be happy, as I know that she would not want me to miss out or be sad. I just wish that she was here to spend Christmas with me and my family this year.
