This was our first Christmas without my mom — and Christmas is officially over.
Letting the First Christmas Without My Mom Be What It Was
This was our first Christmas without my mom, and it was the holiday we worried about the most. She gained her wings in June, and somehow it feels like she planned this Christmas in a way she knew we could manage.
Still, Christmas showed up anyway.
Then, right on schedule, it was time to part ways.
Out of the Way — It Was Time for TV
Because if my mom had been there, she would have wanted everyone out of her way by a certain hour. At that point, it would have been time for Perry Mason, Matlock, or whatever was playing on the Westerns Channel that night. She claimed that time as her own. She didn’t encourage long goodbyes, and she definitely didn’t tolerate lingering. After all, mysteries needed solving and cowboys needed watching.
So we honored that part too.
Later that night, we checked in on each other. Then we did it again the next day — today. Still, the connection didn’t disappear; it simply shifted into something quieter and just as steady.
And one small, practical win stood out: no one gave or received anything that needed to be returned. That meant no standing in long return lines, no reliving Christmas after Christmas had already passed. There were no fluorescent lights, no receipts crumpled at the bottom of a purse, and no thank-yous whispered through clenched teeth.
If I’m being honest, the whole day felt like her parting gift — peace, unity, and just enough laughter to carry us through. Looking back, this first Christmas without my mom felt like a quiet reminder that love doesn’t disappear; it simply shows up differently.
In the end, I choose to believe my parents are together again, and I think they would approve of how we celebrated.
