🎄 A Christmas of Loss

This Christmas feels different. There’s an absence that’s impossible to ignore. Grandma Dot, who has been the heart of so many memorable holiday seasons, isn’t here. Navigating this season without her feels like trying to celebrate with a piece of my own heart missing.

Grandma wasn’t just part of Christmas—she was Christmas. She was the one who baked the pies that filled the house with the smell of custard, pumpkin, and pecans, the one who insisted on carols playing softly in the background.

This year, her absence is loud.

Grief doesn’t take a holiday. If anything, it intensifies when surrounded by joy and tradition, highlighting the void left behind. At first, I thought it’d be easier to skip Christmas altogether, to avoid the emotional weight of everything that’s happened. But Grandma wouldn’t have wanted that. She would’ve wanted us to celebrate—not to push through as if nothing happened, but to honor her memory in ways that bring us all closer together and keep things merry.

Instead of focusing solely on what’s missing, I’m finding ways to bring Grandma into the holiday.

Sharing memories of her warmth, wit, and wisdom keeps her alive in my heart. Grandma had gifted me a collection of grandchild Christmas ornaments throughout my life. Hanging them all on the tree makes it feel like she’s part of the celebration.

There are still moments when the grief overwhelms. And that’s okay. This year isn’t about trying to have a perfect Christmas; it’s about accepting that it’s imperfect and that loss is part of life. Some days, I lean into the pain, letting the tears come when they need to. Other days, I feel comforted by the small ways I’m keeping Grandma close.

As strange as it sounds, there are still moments of joy. They might be bittersweet, but they’re there—in the laughter of family, in the beauty of a quiet snowfall, in the traditions Grandma passed down. And as I lean into these moments, I feel that I’m honoring her legacy in some small way.

This Christmas isn’t the same, and it never will be. But it’s still Christmas. And Grandma’s love, though she’s gone, remains woven into every tradition, every laugh, every memory.