That first Christmas without them

Wendy Chambers, from the West of Scotland, recently shared a powerful video message, speaking of her grief following the death of both her parents.

In the video (which you can view here) Wendy bravely tells us how her way of coping was to keep herself very busy, until that no longer worked for her and she began having suicidal thoughts, before reaching out to Cruse Scotland for support.

In this blog, Wendy shares more of her grief journey particularly over the festive season.  

"The 'firsts' are the hardest: first birthdays; first Sunday roast; first anniversary; the first time dialing their number, and they aren’t there.  

The first year is full of firsts that seem to pop up out the blue and have you facing that void time and time again, like an alarm clock that doesn’t stop going off at the most inconvenient of moments - and Christmas is no exception.  

I remember my first Christmas without both my parents, standing in a queue with a basket full of gifts for my daughter, Mia, when I noticed a box of my Mum's favourite chocolates, Walnut Whip. My first instinct was to grab a box as a stocking filler, and as I reached out my hand, that pain of loss swept over me once again and I just crumbled right there in the queue, sobbing loudly, tears streaming down my face, the folk around me just staring not sure what to say or do.  

Well meaning friends went over and above to include us. Parties and gatherings where I had nothing to wear from all the comfort eating and I would spend all night behind the mask, keeping it together for fear of sucking the energy out the room like a broken Henry Hoover. Leaving with a sore throat, not from talking and laughing but from holding the emotions down.  

Christmas morning comes and the gifts under the tree are noticeably sparse but the mask comes on again as I tried to make it as normal as possible for Mia. Pushing my feelings aside so she can have space to be a child again. Knowing this year has taken its toll on her and she has had to grow up fast, lockdowns, not seeing her friends, losing her grandparents and losing a little bit of her Mum too. She deserved the childlike normality and tradition that Christmas brought, more than anyone else. 

Then Hogmanay came and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I grew up in a very traditional Scottish household where Hogmanay was the highlight of the year, where everyone wore their best outfits, the kids got to stay up late, there was music, and singing and “first footers” and a huge dinner of steak pie with all the trimmings right after the bells! 

We had managed to keep the tradition alive and in many ways Mia looked forward to that more than Christmas day. That year had been the hardest of our lives and with some hope and anticipation for the fresh New Year ahead, we joined the family, glass in hand, for the count down.  

As the bagpipes sung out through the TV and the presenters counted us down from the STV studios, 10…9…8 I felt surprisingly okay 7….6….5.. Oh I think I can do this! 4…3…2… then the tears started rolling down my cheeks as the vision of my Dad - sitting rosy cheeked, whisky in hand - flooded my mind.  

As everyone shouted, “Happy New Year” and began shaking hands and hugging, I slipped quietly out the door and left the room. I didn’t want to bring a downer to the occasion, and who would want to kiss my snotty tear-soaked face anyway? This was a stupid mistake I should have just went to bed I thought, guilt ridden and full of shame that I could have brought the mood down. Luckily though Mia was still inside having a great time, so I thought. 

But as a Mum, one of the biggest realisations I had was that if we are going to get any better as a society around grief then as a parent I had to be honest about my grief journey with my child. My parents never shared with me how hard it was to lose their parents and I want to break that cycle for Mia, so that when I go, the grief and pain is expected rather than a surprise.

Mia and I talk regularly about her grandparents, laughing and crying about the special memories they shared with us. When I feel low I don’t mask it anymore and she has been such a rock for me, which I no longer feel guilty about as a parent. I don’t always have to be strong as a Mum, showing my daughter all the sides of me has brought us closer together and will hopefully show her not to feel ashamed by how she feels. 

But one of the biggest shocks for me as a parent is that the times I thought I was putting on a brave face so as not to upset Mia, she could see through the mask and knew how I was feeling because she felt it too. For all the times I was buzzing about, pretended everything was normal for her sake, all she wanted to do was sit with me for a while and feel the feelings with me. 

So, if I can give you readers any advice this Christmas it would be to lose the mask and the superhero cape and show your children all the sides of you. Give the gift to feel those feels this Christmas."

Be a life saver this Christmas

Please donate to Cruse Scotland today to help many others, like Wendy, who are completely shattered by a death and struggling to find a way forward.

If you need support with your grief, we have many resources and services that may help. We have some tips on coping with grief and anxiety at Christmas here, or if you need to talk, find the professional support that's right for you here.