Daddy’s Gone

It was early December 1990 when the girls and I took possession of our new home after their dad died. I remember this crushing feeling as I returned to our home to meet the movers who had been there the day before to pack and coming to load everything into the truck. It was first time that I had been alone inside the house since he died.

I stood inside the doors looking at the boxes stacked two and three high. I realized that not only was I packing up my adult life with this move, I was packing up half of my life (I was 17 years old when we met and 34 when he died). It was lost, empty feeling. I made my way to the living room and sat down. I hadn’t heard the radio when I came into the house but suddenly I tuned in; the movers must have left it on from the day before.

A slow country song was playing. I don’t know who sang it or the title of it. I only caught a few lines… “Daddy’s gone but Christmas must go on. The little one’s need the memories.” The words connected with my soul… it was as though their father was speaking right to me. Christmas is my favourite time of year and I had been struggling with facing it without him.

We did have Christmas that year… in our new home. I invited family and friends and made the day as calm, peaceful and joyful as I could. Everyone who joined us went the extra mile to make sure that our daughters had the best day they could in light of it being the first Christmas without their dad.

Over two decades have passed and now we pass on the traditions and memories to our grandsons in his honour. Yes, the holidays always bring the reminder that he is no longer here. But it also brings us opportunities to share stories about him, to remember him, and to give thanks that we have one another.

Photo Credit: Susie B
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