Baka Bukas, Ma-Feel Ko Na

Thirteen years ago, I posted this:

It was our first Christmas without my mother, and no matter how many years have passed, Christmas has never really been the same.

Sure, I still get excited for my kids and my family, but there’s always this void, a quiet ache that makes it hard to feel 100% excited and happy. There’s the empty chair, the traditions left undone, the favorite food no one asks for anymore, and the bittersweet memory of our last Christmas together.

Sometimes I wonder if, deep down, that’s the Christmas I’m still waiting to feel again. The kind of Christmas we had when Mommy was still here. And knowing it won’t happen again somehow always makes the season feel a little less complete.

This year feels a lot like 2011 all over again. Painful goodbyes, losses, frustrations. It’s been one of the years I’ve cried the hardest.

Yet through all of it, I’m deeply grateful for my family, my dad and my siblings, and my closest friends who have been my unwavering support system. Because grief and gratitude are funny that way. Apparently, they can sit right beside each other. You can be genuinely happy for everything you still have while missing someone you would give anything to have back.

So if Christmas feels a little heavier for you too, it’s okay.

Grieve. Miss them. Talk about them. Cry when you need to. That grief exists because the love did, and I don’t think we ever really stop carrying either one.

If you’re facing other kinds of loss, hold on to the hope that tomorrow will be better. And for everything else, pray. He hears even your quietest cries and will bring you comfort.

Merry Christmas.