Member-only story
Why I Am Grateful for Christmas: A Story of Healing and Renewal
Christmas has always been a season of reflection, a time to pause, breathe, and count my blessings. But for the longest time, it wasn’t. It was something I avoided, a holiday filled with the kind of cheer that felt too loud and too bright for someone carrying pain. It took years, a few brave conversations, and one unforgettable December morning to change that. This is the story of how I went from dreading Christmas to being deeply grateful for it.
The Year Everything Fell Apart
Five years ago, Christmas was just a date on the calendar. The year had been relentless. My family was grappling with loss — we lost my mother after a sudden illness that gave us no time to prepare. She was the glue of our household, the planner of every holiday feast, the one who made the house glow with lights and love. Her absence was a gaping hole in everything.
That first Christmas without her, I remember sitting alone in my tiny apartment with no tree, no decorations, and no plans. The world outside seemed like it was mocking me. Couples were walking hand in hand past shop windows filled with ornaments, children laughed as they built snowmen, and every ad on TV was saturated with the syrupy promise of holiday magic.
