‘I’ve invited a few friends from Church for Christmas this year,’ my mum told us a few days ago. ‘I didn’t want to be alone on Christmas day,’ she explains.
My brother and I share a look that says, ‘WTF are we, chopped liver?’
And yet, I kind of get it.
…
Christmas has always been a big deal for us, and we’ve always had between 6 and 16 people to share it with. On the years when it was just us, there were at least the six people who lived in our house. Me, brother, mum, mum’s dad and great auntie Doze. And of course, dad. The prospect of spending the holidays with half the people we’re used to is kind of daunting. It’s our third Christmas without him, but the last two have been spend with other families in joyous chaos.
That’s not to say we’re sad today. We’re in a good place, all of us. He’s here, in a sense, as we all know that. We’re happy to be together.
But still, the day is filled with mini heartbreaks. An old gift tag in the wrapping paper drawer from him, a present given that he would have loved, the notable absence of his voice. But I’ve learned that those moments never really go away, and that’s ok.
…
Merry Christmas, everyone. May it be joyfully lazy and magically happy.
