I once wrote that each Christmas gets better and better after losing someone you love to the grave. I meant well, but I was wrong.
Stay tuned. There’s hope in this story.
Last year, a great pall fell upon me for reasons I cannot pinpoint. I was unhappy with Christmas. Go away. Come back next year. My grief surged.
Not that it was as bad as the first Christmases. Those would be the ones right after my father died in 2006 and right after my mother died in 2009. I was better last year than those years, but my holiday grief didn’t steadily improve.
I realize now that some Christmases aren’t going to be as good, or better, than others. That’s true whether you have had a death in the family or not, so certainly it is true when you do.
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