Katharine's story: My first Christmas without Dad

My Dad was diagnosed with cancer in October 2021 and died in March 2022. His short illness and death left me feeling like a part of my heart was permanently broken.

In the months that followed his death, I struggled to know what to do or how to express how sad I felt. I have often turned to creative arts when I don’t have the words to explain feelings and found that sketching and painting were really helpful to just use images and colours to release some of how I was feeling.

In time I felt like words came easier again and I wanted to use creative writing to try and express parts of my journey with my Dad. I wrote short poems about the experience of seeing someone you love becoming unwell and facing the idea of life without them, I described it as ‘the endless goodbye’. It helped me to feel less ‘full’ sometimes and like I was able to breathe a little more.

My Dad’s birthday was at the end of November and so around that time of year as we were also headed to the first Christmas without him, I realised how big my grief felt. I accessed some support from Sue Ryder’s Online Bereavement Counselling and felt able to explore further these feelings through creative writing and talking therapy.

I remember that first Christmas after my Dad died I felt like the world was bright and cheery and I just wanted to pretend Christmas wasn't happening. I remember hating walking into the supermarkets and hearing Christmas music over the speakers. I began to dread the question “what are you doing for Christmas this year?” it made me think back to other Christmases and how different things would be.

I found it hard to know what Christmas now looked like. More than the first Christmas, I dreaded new year and the thought that I'd be living in a whole new year that my Dad would never get the chance to be in and I just wanted to press a massive pause button on it all.

A few days before Christmas it felt important to me to visit the graveyard where my Dad's ashes were buried. My Dad loved opening Christmas presents and even though I knew that year I couldn’t actually give him a gift in person, I wanted to bring flowers to the graveyard as a sign that we remembered him.

There is a big tree in the graveyard that had given me a lot of comfort all year round as it remained a constant, even though it changed with the seasons. On that occasion I was really struck with how the tree had shed all of its leaves and I was left looking at its bare branches. It seemed a stark contrast to the shining Christmas tree at home that my Dad had been so insistent on helping to decorate the year before.

I wish I could tell you that Christmas was easy that year but that would be lying. Simple traditions that we had shared together brought up lots of feelings; Watching the carol service from Kings College on Christmas Eve, eating Christmas dinner, and even paper hats that always seemed to stay on his head for ages.

We couldn’t bring ourselves to get out the Scrabble board for a game that year, as had always been a tradition, instead this stayed in the cupboard under the stairs. There were moments that made me smile, but I had a heavy heart and there were many tears. If I am honest, I am not sure I was the most pleasant person to be around at times.

I spent some time trying to write about how I was feeling. I wrote my dad a letter telling him I missed him and telling him things that had happened that year. I also put some thoughts into poetry too:

'This year I visit you under a different tree. One not adorned with festivity, but empty of leaves that now decorate the ground.

There is no meal to fill you up, or paper hat balanced on your head. We won't share carols sung softly by candlelight or walk off our lunch by the river. The Scrabble board remains in the cupboard and your chair is not pointed at the TV screen.

Instead, amongst the busyness and joy of Christmas I pause to stand quietly. Wishing you a happy Christmas mixed with "I miss you."

Your gift, a simple bunch of flowers that marks the place where you sleep in Heavenly peace.’

This year will be the third Christmas without my Dad and it has taken me to this point before I have really felt excited about celebrating and curious about the new year ahead. Everyone is different and will experience Christmas in a unique way. I would encourage others not to put pressure on yourself to feel any kind of way.

However you choose to spend Christmas this year is ok. Take time to remember your person in a way that matters to you. That might be eating their favourite food, playing a piece of music, or trying something totally new. For you it might be a really joyful time of year and you’ll spend it telling funny stories of your person and raising a glass to their memory or it may be a time spent with many tears and an aching heart. Chances are it might end up being a real mixture of the two.

As clichéd as it may sound, be kind to yourself and give yourself time. If you need to cancel or change plans give yourself permission to do that and don't be afraid of being honest with people. I found it helpful to remind myself going into a new year that you never leave the person behind, they travel with you in new ways.

I got married six months after my dad died and I had a small photo locket of him tied on my bouquet that now hangs on our Christmas tree each year. It makes me smile to see it there and I pause each time we hang it up to remember the things I loved about him and wish him a Happy Christmas.