Grieving at Christmas: ‘Lung cancer may have taken Martin but the memories of our Christmases past will remain intact’

Christmas Past

Christmases past were what memories were made of, and I have many, many happy ones. Martin was a huge Christmas fan. When I first met him, he’d head straight home to Drogheda after Christmas pints, to help his Dad out with the Christmas rush, in the family’s ‘fancy goods’ shop. He loved everything about Christmas, the traditions, the tree – just maybe not the tinsel! Martin’s mum did Christmas more than anyone I’d ever met, she had it down to the talking “Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas” doormat. We got such a kick out of that mat and, until the year Martin died, we spent every year online trying to find one. I guess that’s what is the ultimate memory, that nobody else can share.

From the moment we became a twosome, and then a family of five, we started making our own traditions. The Santa Steam Train, Christmas Eve drinks and the annual viewing of Love Actually, usually late on December 24 after too many glasses of fizz, during which Martin would inevitably fall asleep. Christmas Day was all about the kids, and even though Martin had to be dragged out of bed at silly o’clock to see what the big man had brought, he’d spend the rest of the day happily in my mum’s kitchen perfecting his gravy.

When our first son Felix came along, we’d each do Santa, so we got just as much a surprise as he did. Martin made sure all of our kids would have special memories, one Casper still talks about is “the time Daddy let him have three ice creams in a row on Christmas Eve”. Martin’s love for Christmas was infectious, it was never too early to put up the tree, open a bottle of port, or delve into a plum pudding. It was always, what Christmas should be.

Christmas Future

Christmas Future is a possibility that couldn’t be considered without living through Christmas Present. You have to live through the painful moments to focus on the future.

I know how incredibly lucky we were to have had the Christmases we had, and to have our fabulous little family to share it with. While lung cancer may have taken Martin, the memories of our Christmases past will remain intact. They can never be taken away.

There’s a feeling of hope, that the wobbles will be less wobbly, that the fear of not being able to “get through” will dissipate, that the opening bars of East 17 will awaken a sense of annual excitement and that the lights will twinkle and shine brightly once again.

Christmas Past will never happen again, but on the better days, when I think about them, I know deep down that’s okay, because we had them, and that in itself is the best Christmas present, money can’t buy or Santa can’t bring… because the best Christmas present is in fact… Love, Actually.