A shared universe › The first Christmas without them: the empty chair · Español
The first Christmas after a death is usually one of the hardest days of the year, because everything around you is asking for joy and the person who made it Christmas isn’t there. It helps to decide early how you want to spend it, to make room for them at the table and to know that it is fine to celebrate differently, or not at all.
Christmas starts long before the 25th. In November the lights go up, the adverts begin, the shops play the same songs, and every one of them reminds you who is missing. There are the decorations they always put up, the recipe only they knew, their handwriting on last year’s card, the present you nearly bought before you remembered.
And then there are the questions nobody wants to ask: who will carve, who will host, whether we put up the tree. It is completely normal to dread it. It doesn’t mean you’re not coping. For other difficult dates, there is a page on the dates that hurt.
The worst Christmases are often the ones nobody talked about. Everyone goes along with the old plan because they don’t want to upset the others, and the day turns into a performance. A few weeks before, try to talk about it, even briefly.
Some families leave their chair empty at the table, with a candle or a flower on it. Others put someone else in it, so the gap isn’t so stark. Others move the table round so that nobody sits where they used to. There is no right answer, only the one that lets you breathe.
What usually hurts most is not the chair but the silence. Everyone is thinking of them and nobody says their name, for fear of making the others cry. Saying it, even once, takes a weight off the whole table: a toast, a story, “Mum would have complained about the sprouts.” Tears and laughter can share the same meal.
Children notice everything, including what the adults don’t say. Tell them simply that this Christmas will be different because Grandma isn’t here, and that it is fine to be sad and fine to enjoy the presents too. They need permission for both.
Let them take part in remembering: hanging a decoration for her, drawing a card, choosing her favourite song. Keep some of the routines that make Christmas feel safe for them. And if they ask hard questions, answer with the truth in words they can understand; there is a guide on how to talk to a child about death.
You don’t owe anyone a happy Christmas this year. You can skip the parties, send no cards, leave the tree in the loft and spend the day in your pyjamas watching films. You can also go to everything and find, to your surprise, that you enjoyed some of it. Neither is a betrayal of the person you loved.
If the days get very heavy, don’t carry them in silence. Tell someone how you are, even by message. And remember that grief doesn’t follow a timetable; this first Christmas is not a test you have to pass. There is more on this in grief does not come in stages.
For a toast, a card to a grieving friend or a message to the family. For friends who have lost someone, there are also words of comfort and condolence messages.