grief has turned me into the grinch


t/w death and grief


          I look back on this time last year with a certain guilt about my ignorance and lack of thought towards grieving families at Christmas. I heavily indulged in the commercialised crap literally counting down the days with an advent calendar (that never lasted long), and shed tears over cringey adverts with a laughing family around the Christmas table, not giving a second thought to those who might not have that privilege.


But having had my eyes forced open this year to the reality that Christmas is indeed not always the most wonderful time of the year, every part of me wishes I could go back to that ignorant version of myself. Just for a day perhaps. Ideally Christmas Eve where traditionally my brothers and I would escape Christmas cooking stress and go to the pub with my Dad to talk about the year that has passed. 


I wonder what that extremely hypothetical conversation would look like this year. Reflecting on what has seemed like a never ending 12 months where even though my siblings and I have faced more heartbreak than I knew possible, hopefully we would talk about the many ways we have flourished in the face of life's adversity. Despite the shite, we have all achieved so much in our own ways, and although Dad was a very humble man, I think he would be pretty proud. 


I often think generally about what Dad would think of this new reality. For a long time my main concern was how my remaining family were doing, and my grief hadn’t quite developed into mourning the loss of his potential life. But now it saddens me to think about how heartbroken he’d be for us to live a life without a husband and father, and I’m as much devastated for him as I am for us that he isn’t here to see in 2025 and the thought of counting down the New Year to one he’s never seen quite frankly makes me feel nauseous.


These reflections have definitely been catalysed by the lead up to this festive season- a time which seemingly does nothing but highlight their absence and the fact that you aren’t as jolly as people around you who have a 100% success rate of alive family members. I tried to time going travelling halfway across the world to avoid the Christmas hype and it’s definitely helped, but even all the way in Colombia I still found myself flinching at Christmas lights and wanting to go lalalala whenever ‘Feliz Navidad’ was played- a huge shame because it’s an absolute banger. 


           In an attempt to run away even further from Christmas and pretend it simply doesn’t exist, my family and I are going away to do something completely different from our incredibly traditional and family oriented holiday season. I am the first to admit how fortunate we are to be able to go away at this time, and all in all I’m feeling fairly positive about going. 


However, something that I struggle to deal with is the countless number of well meaning people telling me how we are SO lucky to be going away and that they are SO jealous. I feel like responding that they really shouldn’t be and that I’d swap places with them in a heartbeat to be freezing in England with my Dad. But naturally I’m far too British for that so just agree and start talking about the nice weather abroad. 


        I’m yet to have hindsight on the first Christmas without Dad, but everyone who relates who we’ve spoken to has confirmed that creating new traditions is the way forward. There is no point in trying to live life as if nothing has happened as no space would be made to accommodate the loss, and so the act of booking that trip away I guess is a form of acknowledgement and even acceptance that things have changed. That sounds blindingly obvious when writing it down, as booking flights to go away seems like a trivial and necessary task, but like with many things in grief, it is the symbolism behind the act itself which makes these regular day to day things mean so much more. 


So well done to anyone who has simply done their Christmas shopping to make others happy in a time when they aren’t. Well done to anyone who has winced at someone saying “have a great Christmas” knowing full well they might not. Well done to anyone who has endured conversations amongst friends and colleagues about how much they love Christmas and how it’s the best time of year when it really doesn’t seem that way. And well done to anyone for simply getting through a nauseatingly positive time period which exacerbates feelings of loss and grief. 


God I sound positive.


     Hopefully in time I won’t be such a Scrooge and instinctively reject any festive fun. Hopefully ‘Happy New Year’ won’t just be happy because of feeling the good riddance of the year before. It’s definitely one of those big first hurdles to clamber over and as ever I will keep trying to find the good in this weird new normal. 


Lots of love, Ruby 

:)


(Dad and me dancing last New Year- one of our last photos together)



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