This Year Hits Different
It’s the first Christmas without my dad, and nothing about it feels the same. The lights are still bright, the songs still play, the world keeps moving—but there’s an empty chair, a quiet space, a moment you feel in your chest that reminds you someone who shaped your whole life isn’t here to share it.
If you’re walking into this season with that same kind of loss… I’m right there with you.
This is the Christmas where memories feel heavier than gifts
- where you suddenly understand how much joy one person could bring into a room
- where traditions feel both comforting and painful
- and where grief shows up in the small moments: a holiday movie, a favorite scent, a song you forgot he loved.
I’ve learned that grief doesn’t need to be “fixed” during the holidays. It just needs to be carried. Some moments will hurt. Some moments will surprise you with warmth. And some moments will remind you that the love they gave didn’t end when they did.
If you’re facing your first Christmas without your dad or someone you love:
• Give yourself permission to feel everything. There’s no right way to do this.
• Let their memory be part of the day. Say their name, tell their stories, hang their ornament, cook their favorite dish.
• Let the people around you hold you up a little. You don’t have to be strong every second.
• Remember that love doesn’t disappear—it changes shape. What they poured into you is still here. It always will be.
I miss my dad deeply. I miss the reliability he showed, the way he believed in me, the way he kept every promise. And I know he’d want me to step into this season with love, not guilt… to show up for my kids the way he showed up for me.
If you’re missing someone this Christmas, I hope you feel a little less alone reading this. We’re walking this path together. And somewhere in the grief, I hope you find a moment of peace—a moment where you can feel the love that will always remain.
For all of us facing our first Christmas without them: we carry them with us. Always.