My First Christmas Without You.

Please make time for the tradition’s.

I put my Christmas tree up just like every year and it’s just with my mom. 

I lost my mom this year.

Seeing every personalized ornament from her brought tears to my eyes. 

You know, at the time of receiving them every year it doesn’t seem so important and decorating never seems like such a big deal. I was used to every Christmas opening a gift from mom that included a personalized ornament with that year’s date. It was just what was expected, until it’s gone. 

Christmas was our thing. The ultimate Mrs. Clause’s. Everything about it. The decor, the lights, the music, the movies, the holiday coffee, gift giving. We loved it and we loved experiencing it together.

I knew this holiday season was going to be hard, traditions being kept up without her here with me. I just didn’t expect the punch to the gut at the reality of it all. That’s how grief is though, it hibernates for a little while until something brings it out of its cave again. 

For me, that was ornaments.

If you do anything this holiday, keep up the traditions. Buy the personalized item every year. Bundle up and go ride around and look at Christmas lights, watch all the movies, bake all the goodies, buy the matching Christmas pajamas, build the gingerbread houses, turn up the Christmas music, have fun with elf on the shelf if that’s your thing. I would send her a picture every night of “Harry and Marv” getting into mischief. 

Most of all though? Do all of it with the ones you love. Surround yourself with them as much as you can and just enjoy it all. You have no idea how much you will miss it when it’s gone. 

The memories really do last a lifetime.

My Christmas tree is full of my mom and I’ve never been so thankful for it. 

The Moment Grief Hits You.

Grief is really hard..

I feel like you can have days of feeling absolutely fine and then all of a sudden it’s the middle of the day or it’s time for bed and something just stops you in your tracks. Like tonight.

Tonight for me it was a stuffed animal oddly enough. Max from secret life of pets. A phase of characters my son went through of course and everything my kids love, Gigi always had to get for them. 

Giving was definitely her love language. 

I know in a way it’s a comfort to be surrounded by so many things bought or personalized from her to cherish but it dosent stop the pain of missing what really matters. Her. 

Her sweet soft voice that always brought comfort. Chatting with her. Telling her something funny or cute the kids did that day or complaining when they are being a little too stubborn.

Gosh, just asking a simple question because usually mom always seems to have an answer. 

Losing a parent is an indescribable feeling. One that a lot of time doesn’t even seem like it’s real besides in those little moments that bring you back to reality. 

Those moments when you are reminded of the loss, the anger of wondering why they had to be taken from you. When you can’t physically be comforted or talk to them like you desperately want to. 

It’s painful. 

I know it’s always said that time will heal all things and I’m sure it does. But when you’re in the thick of your grief it’s hard to imagine, I don’t think it will ever fully heal. 

And that’s ok. 

The memories in time won’t make it so painful but will be comforting.

Comforting to know that at least you have all the beautiful memories.

Even though it will never replace the love you felt when they were here with you. 

So tonight I’ll tuck Max in with my daughter who dragged him out of the basket and I’ll tell her all about how Gigi loved watching that movie with us and how she knows it’s bringing us comfort. 

Because that’s the best thing you can do in your grief, is keep their memory alive.

Please, hold your loved ones tight.

I miss you mom❤️