“It is perfectly okay to admit you’re not okay.”
Unknown
Grief is a phenomenon that experts have been trying to understand for as long as time began. The truth is. We will never understand unless we experience it ourselves. I didn’t understand it at all until this year.
The brutal truth is that whenever we lose someone who we helped shape who we are means you lose a piece of yourself. And no matter how hard people try to tell you that they understand. They don’t. Because every single being is different and unique in their own ways.
Not a single person in this universe can tell you how to grieve. No one can tell you the appropriate ways to grieve. And no one should fault you for how you grieve.
This is going to be our first Christmas without you. Halloween night we would have been over at your house starting to decorate, maybe sooner. You would have already watched at least 4 different Christmas Carol movies. You would have discussed which bear you needed to get this year for your collection. And how you cannot wait to see the babies play with your tree and redecorate it.
The smile on your face would have been undeniable. It is officially Christmas season for you. And that meant it was for the rest of us to. You would’ve started planning on your Christmas activities at school and which animated toys you were going to bring each day.
We decorated for Christmas this past weekend. Yes it’s early for a lot of people. But you instilled in us the true spirit of Christmas and no one can or ever will take that away from us or you.

To be honest. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this first Christmas without you. How my babies are going to handle it without you. Our Big Mom Mom.
The only thing that brings me comfort is knowing you’re going to be celebrating with your mom and telling her all about your village.
The only plans I have is to honor your memory in every way possible through Christmas. You were our Christmas gift each year. You were my second momma. I will never be able to express in words what you meant to me. I know it pales in comparison to your kids. But you introduced me as your adopted daughter. You were apart of my soul.
And when you left us you took a lot of pieces of souls with you.
This holiday season I encourage you to check in on the ones who have an empty chair this year. They may not be okay. And that’s okay. Even when we have no words to help. Sometimes just having another presence is all someone needs.
For those with the empty chair this year. Lean on your loved ones. Encourage each other to enjoy those memories of the people who should be occupying those chairs. Laugh through the tears, and try to be thankful for the years those chairs were occupied. They may have left us with holes in our souls. But that’s only because they were loved so much, and they had such an impact.
I will be fighting this battle with you this year. And the only way I can think of feeding my soul is by trying to fill the hole with the memories. So I challenge you to do the same.
Until next time my friends.
Keep standing stall like the wildflowers that you are.
Britt
I will live in the past, the present, and the future. The spirits of all three shall strive within me.
Charles Dickens- A Christmas Carol