The Christmas that wasn't.....

I remember this Christmas like it was yesterday. It was the worst Christmas EVER. I mean it.


I was 12 1/2. My brother was a freshman in college and I was so excited he was coming home. It was going to be great. All of us together.


My Mom was out on the eve of Christmas Eve that year running errands. My brother was gone doing who knows what. My Dad was at work - it was my sister and I holding down the fort.


The phone rang. It was my Uncle from Ireland. I could tell from his tone that either one of my cousins was in some serious poop or something awful had happened. He asked to speak to my Mom, she isn't home. He asked to speak to my Dad, he isn't home.

I had an idea - I said I can call Dad at home and use the 3 way for you to talk to him. He said fine. I called Dad and told him not to get mad at me (the 3-way calling while we had it, was NOT to be used).

After I connected the call, I was instructed to the put the phone down. I don't know why I listened but I could sense this was not the time to disobey.

For the first time in my life, my Dad was home early from work. He was home an hour after that call and sat at the kitchen table waiting....he wouldn't tell us what was wrong, but once again, I knew it wasn't good.

My Mom walked in obviously shocked to see my Dad. Her face was lit up to see him. Then she must have seen his expression, because she immediately asked what was wrong...

Once again, we were told to leave the room. So, I hauled my sister to the living room to watch TV and wait.

I heard my parents talking, my Mom crying, Dad saying it would be okay, but it didn't matter the day she needed to leave and needed to leave today.

Then, there was the family meeting after the arrangements had been made. My Mom's Mom, my Nana had a stroke while visiting her brother in England. They were making arrangements to move her home. We should come, right away. Arranging a last minute trip for 5 to Ireland over the holidays was impossible. Impractical.

So, she left, she was gone until February. We rang in the New Year crying on the couch. She passed on the 29th of December. It was honestly the worst Christmas ever.

We sat huddled with each other, not understanding but understanding why we couldn't go the funeral. It was too far, Dad couldn't leave work during the holidays. There was no one to cover.

It took years for Christmas to be wonderful again. Yes, they were good but in the back of our minds we were always thinking of Nana. The grandkids who came many years later were the band-aid for her heart.


I was thinking about how bad Mom felt when she came home from Ireland in Feb. We had Christmas again. The presents that Dad either didn't know about or couldn't find. Not that we noticed. We all tried to make it wonderful for my sister. I should ask her sometime her memory of that Christmas without Mom...