Christmas, it is a bit of a bittersweet time for me. It is filled with the joy and excitement of two innocent boys, but also the memory of my mum’s unexpected and sudden death two years ago. Christmas Day will forever be associated with seeing my Mum dead in her kitchen on Christmas morning, but I can not let the past shape the future.
So my Memories are split in two. There is the memory of Christmas past, of tissue thin sheets of wrapping paper, eye shut tight of christmas eve listening for the sleigh bells, pillowcases instead of stockings, coming down on Christmas Eve to find my Dad standing at the door with a longed for Petite Typewriter. It is Christmas days long ago of a Sindy House rapped in a candy coloured stripped sheet. It is delicious family filled Christmas dinners after Dad and Granddad returned from a swift one at the Pub. Boxing days spent with cousins, parkin and corned beef pie. Board games and cocktails. Sisters living and loving each other.
Of carefree and joyfilled Christmas spent with family. Once the boys graced us with our presence we experienced the excitement though their eyes and Christmas became about crafting, cooking, making and creating memories. We made advent a time of activities. We cemented memories with our traditions. We went to my Mum’s to help wrap her presents. She helped me to cook Christmas dinner.
And then she was no more………………
So now I try to make Christmas a time of making, creating, cooking and crafting. I think of my Mum and the time we spend doing the same as I was growing up and in my actions I honor her memory. I allow the pain and grief to be there, but do not make it mark my days and nights. More than ever Christmas is about making memories, so that when my children grow they look back at this time with both wonder and joy and they come to realise that Christmas is all about family.