Written by Claire Rutter

In 2018, journalist Claire Rutter faced her first Christmas without her mother. Here, she reflects on how isolating the festive period can be when missing a loved one and the importance of creating new traditions.

At this time of the year, we can all expect to hear “Merry Christmas” and “Have a happy new year” over and over again. To most, this will be received as a welcome moment of cheer, but for those who have recently lost a parent or loved one, these festive niceties feel different: on some days, they shred your nerves and on others they simply don’t register at all.

Rather than being the most wonderful time of year, you’re in survival mode and just want it to be over, but the season to be jolly lasts for weeks and there’s no escape. At least that’s what it was like for me.

My mother died in November 2018, passing away suddenly from a brain aneurysm after going to bed one night at the age of 58. Mum had just retired and was about to embark on a whole new life full of shopping and adventure with my dad, only to be snatched in her sleep.

My mum was Mrs Christmas. Luther Vandross’s Christmas album would blast from her stereo on repeat, wine would be free-flowing (and if not wine, large rums) and our house was sprinkled with elves, confetti, lights and candles. The year that she died, it was as if all the colour had been drained from everything and my small family was broken.

Never one to want to let my mum down, I persevered with hosting Christmas at her house in the way that she would have liked: the formal dinner plates set, the tree scraping the ceiling, presents wrapped and Home Alone playing as we all ate countless homemade sausage rolls. A few family and friends came over for moral support and we forced ourselves to try to enjoy the day. I can’t say we did, but in hindsight, I don’t think I would have done anything differently.

My experience isn’t unique. “Navigating Christmas without a loved one can be painful, sad and overwhelming,” says grief and loss specialist Jill Attree. “What makes things even more challenging is that we are expected to be in good spirits all of the time; seeing others enjoying their Christmas holiday can put more pressure on us and lead us to think that we should be able to enjoy ours too.”

“It’s important to remember that our grief is as unique and individual as our fingerprint, therefore we all grieve in our own way.”

Annabel Scopes, 37, has had to live through losing a parent twice. Her father died when she was just 18, while her mum died suddenly last year. When her father died, Annabel struggled not only with his loss, but in trying to be a support for her mum and her little sister, all while applying for university and fighting glandular fever.

“I was quite sad, angry and confused as to why it happened to me,”she says. Christmas is a constant reminder of family, but for Annabel, it was also a reminder that someone was missing.

“I found it quite difficult because at that time a lot of my friends had both parents looking out for them and caring for them.” 

It’s about more than just the day

The build-up to Christmas Day can leave people feeling anxious, especially when they’re grieving, and it can isolate people even further if they’re trying to avoid bringing the mood down.

“The lead up to it felt harder than the actual day, the fear that Christmas would never be the same and you would lose the traditions that you enjoyed and celebrated with that person,” Hannah Thomas, 36, says, having lost both of her parents several years apart.

“I resented other people just carrying on while my mum and dad were gone and I couldn’t do the same. I expect I worried more than I needed to. We carry on some of those traditions we love and that helps to make them still feel with you. Over time, you realise that you start a new normal and it’s different, but that it’s OK.”

That first Christmas, Annabel and her family tried to keep as much tradition as they could, but there were little differences. She remembers that her dad liked a real Christmas tree and that first year her mum went and bought an artificial one.

It’s little things like this that can help you navigate your loss. Ripping up the rule book and ways things are always done if it feels right, or not if you’re not ready. It’s different for everyone.

If it feels right, rip up the rule book and change the way things are done. But if you’re not ready, then don’t. It’s different for everyone.

For Annabel, it was finding new traditions and ways to mark the day that has made Christmas easier with time. Following the death of her mother, she made the decision to go with her now-fiance and join his family in France for Christmas.

“Doing something different really helped because I wasn’t comparing. There wasn’t someone missing in a sense, because I was in a different location and different place. I definitely felt sad but what it did teach me is that you can do things differently,” she explains.

“For some, the pain of pushing through or making plans may be too overwhelming,” Jill explains. “It’simportant to do what feels right for you. If that means cancelling all the traditions that you normally follow then let that be OK. You should not feel guilty about the choice you have made.”

I remember arranging to meet some friends for one of the first times I’d left the house socially after my mum died. We were meeting in a pub that was usually calm, but on the night we’d picked it was rammed with hundreds of Santas on a charity run. No one knew what to say. It’s comical when I look back now, but I remember I felt like I was suffocating. Spirits were so high, someone was literally jumping off bar stools in an attempt to get a laugh (still not funny), and I was as heavy as lead.

“One of the hardest things was going to other events surrounding Christmas with my mum. You feel slightly uncomfortable. You feel like the whole room is moving around you and you’re just stuck in time and sad but slowly over time, it definitely gets easier,” Annabel says.

Making new traditions

Similarly, for Deepika Rajani, 35, it was losing special family moments that hurt the most the first year without her father – despite never having celebrated Christmas in a traditional sense.

“My dad was passionate about food – but there usually wasn’t a turkey in sight on Christmas Day. Instead, it was homemade pizzas, garlic bread and roast potatoes. It was the best meal I ever had,” Deepika remembers. “Not having an amazing ‘Christmas’ meal made by my dad was what I missed most.”

Following her dad’s death, Deepika and her family went to visit other relatives instead on Christmas Day. “We knew that we didn’t want to spend it alone so we went to spend it with family. The pain was still there but it was softened by the love and support we received from extended family,” she explains. 

However you choose to mark Christmas this year is as individual as grief itself. There is no set way of doing it, and that applies to other milestones such as birthdays and anniversaries.

“You can only do what feels right for you,” Jill says. “Grief is emotional; acknowledge the painful feelings. Avoid spending too much time alone – we need others around us so we can share our thoughts and feelings, and remember that there is support available.”

She adds: “It is important to seek out support and help for your loss so that you do not continue to live your life in pain. No one deserves to live a life of sadness.”

After losing my mum, we then had to deal with Covid, which further isolated us. While I will always wish that my mum was there, I want my son Louis, who is two, to have incredible memories of Christmas the way that I do. This year we’re off to see our family in Canada. Louis is just at the magical age where he ‘gets it’ and is waiting for Santa. That is the best way to make sure she’s still with us.

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