Mum died at the beginning of December 2021. Completely out of the blue, aged 66. Her funeral was day before New Year’s Day.
I didn’t go to my works Christmas party. I cancelled things I was doing. Things for the kids carried on. Taking the kids was hard, but I am a single parent. People who knew were very kind. They may not mention it out right, when I arrived with the kids. But they would hug me and look right at me and ask how I was and could they do anything. Obviously the answer was no. But it was nice to be asked.
I finished the Christmas list mum had wrote out for the grandkids. We still did Christmas dinner at my dad’s, opened the presents, tried to make the day as good as we could for the kids. A lot of it was auto pilot. At one point my adult dd, set fire to the Christmas puddings. Dad put it out and me and dd ended up crying with our arms wrapped around each other in the back garden. Which then turned into laughter. Mum hated anyone taking her oven. Now we could see why. The day was very up and down.
I still visited family as planned. I saw more of close family, trying to organise things. Where I would pop in for a catch up it was talking about what happened, did what know what caused it, memories of them, talk of the shock we all felt. It felt nice to be around family.
Everything felt odd. A sense of normality as the world carried on, as I took the kids to things, but with this filter of grief and shock over it.
This is the third Christmas. It’s not quite the same as it was before. A sense of sadness still sits over December. Everything we do, makes me feel sad that’s she is missing it.
I have no idea if I did things the right way or the expected way. Or even in the best way for me and the kids. But I do know that we got through it.
apologises if non of that helps you.