I wish my mum was here for Christmas

My mum lost her life when she was 25. A quarter of a lifetime lived and two young daughters and a heartbroken husband left behind. The car accident took place just two months after my second Christmas. It seems that even now it is the most difficult thing to talk about, the years that have past have made no impact on the pain felt by my family and myself. Death will never be easy to talk about, the sadness and loss of a person so close makes for a depressing conversation topic. But no one prepared me for how life would be moving forward without a mother and what I would miss out on.

“the sadness and loss of a person

so close makes for a depressing

conversation topic.”

Christmas season is the hardest of all. Seeing friends and hearing stories of their mums making the holiday so festive and full of love brought out the green eyed monster in me. My dad told me that jealousy looks ugly on me, but it is hard not to be envious of people looking forward to Christmas with happy families when this is the time of year I dread the most. It was very apparent someone was missing from the table in our household. I think my father feels his pain the hardest during the holidays, the one he should be sharing happiness with will never feel again, I am yet to have a Christmas day I enjoy, a day not filled with my dad’s dark cloud hanging over our heads.

My dad lost the love of his life

Losing a mother doesn’t take just her, it took my father too. I sit and pity myself for missing a woman I barely knew but my dad lost the love of his life and all the love he had drained out of his world the day she was taken out of it. I feel I grew up with half a parent, a shell of man full of hate and despair and such anger at the world that has grown in me over time too. He feels guilty when Christmas comes around, it’s a consistent reminder that she is not here. What is meant to be a time for family acts as a punishment to my dad who lost the most important element of his. He hasn’t recovered from her; I doubt he ever will. I wonder what it is like to have a holly jolly Christmas with both parents there and alive in every sense of the word.

My Nan tells me I am just like her, something I never tire of hearing. She tells me stories and looks at me as if my mum is looking back at her, I think this is the reason we are so close. I remind her of her only daughter in so many ways; I find comfort in that. However, the opposite seems to have occurred for my dad, every day he sees her face in mine, I think it tears him apart.

My mum’s death left a hole in the family that my big sister felt inclined to fill. She took the role of mum by looking after me, teaching me about boys and makeup and how to shave my legs. She makes my Christmas season bearable. In a way I am grateful as I know the love my sister and I share is so special, tainted by our childhoods but stronger because of that. We understand each other and how to make the most of what is usually a sad time of year for us. We struggle to talk about mum at the best of times, I know my sister remembers bits and pieces of her, whereas I remember nothing at all. I can’t decide whether having no memory of a mother and missing that part of life completely is better than having one there only to be ripped away.

She seems to be stronger because of what happened but the sadness never leaves.

So many questions

Now that I am older I feel I am half the person I could have been, with half the life I was supposed to live and a resentment for Christmas spirit. I question who I would have been if I had what everyone else considers the normal. They say that the love of a mother is second to none, yet this is something I will never experience. There are so many questions I won’t get the answer to and memories I will not gain of a relationship so longed for but always out of reach. I wish my mum was here for Christmas, just one that I could hold onto and treasure for the years to come but my wish will never come true.

I am closing in on being 20 and feel my life has not even begun, my mum was just starting her life before it was taken away. Sometimes I feel selfish for feeling sorry for myself when I lost only a woman I did not know. My dad lost his wife, my grandparents lost a daughter, my sister lost her childhood and her friends lost their best friend. I just lost the chance of normality and a happy holiday each year.

Her name was Sara and she will always be my mum, and from what I have been told she was a great one. I hope I make her proud.

Hi!!

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store