My Dad and the journey to find my lost Christmas spirit

Where to begin?

The picture above was taken by myself. My Mum doesn't like it. She always says " He looks sick." He was, that was the reality. What I see when I look at it is the way he always looked at me, with Love.

I lost my Dad on January 3rd, 1992. The last time I heard his voice was on New Years day. He sounded so weak and eerily like my grandmother, his mother. Last words from him to me were " I love you too Dear." I am so grateful we shared that.

For every year since, until recent, I have had a very difficult time at Christmas. I have held feelings of sadness, loss and sometimes even anger. I felt robbed in many ways. My dad wasn't there to walk me down the aisle, be a part of  his grand children's lives, enjoy them and teach them life lessons or be there to be a part of Family Christmas time. I tried very hard each Christmas to not let my sadness effect our children but my spirit was not in it.

Last year, finally after 26 years, I spent  Christmas at home in Newfoundland with my Mum. I vowed to make it a Christmas to remember and Mum and I enjoyed every minute together.  I placed wreaths that I made at Dad's grave on Christmas Eve morning, had a little chat with Dad and a silent prayer, somehow it provided me with the healing I needed. Later that evening the Christmas Eve service at my old Church provided me with a comfort within as Mum sat by my side.

This year my goal is to celebrate Christmas the way Dad would have enjoyed it with us, with family, lots of good food, drink and many, many laughs. My Dad loved to make people laugh. My Christmas spirit has been restored! And in the words of my Dad's favorite Christmas tune by Burl Ives...

                                              HAVE A HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS!