family

University: Will I be the only one?

Going to university evokes a lot of mixed emotions for young people; nervousness, excitement, apprehension, to name but a few. But how does it feel going to university after a loss?

I remember the anticipation in the car journey when moving to university; what will my room be like, will I get on with my flatmates, will I be the only one?

I remember almost having a feeling of embarrassment, as well as worry, about being the only person moving into accommodation with one parent. I felt like it defined me, and I didn't want to be labelled as 'the girl whose dad died'. I had already gone through this in school, and I felt uni was a chance to start a fresh chapter of my life. 

It was a dull pain, watching so many people moving in with the help of both their parents. I couldn't help but wonder how my dad would feel about me heading to university, if he'd be proud or concerned, or just be glad of some peace and quiet? Who knows. 

I also remember the panic of meeting all my flatmates and them asking about my parents, to which the only response I could muster was, "Oh, it's just me and my mum." I couldn't physically get the words out that my dad had passed away, but I realised that's okay. You shouldn't feel ashamed of your story, and you don't have to share it if you don't want to. After a while I got more comfortable and a lot of people started telling me about their parents' divorce, or whatever their family issue was. It was a comfort to know I wasn't as much of an outcast as I had thought. Nobody's life is perfect, and we all have our demons.

You should never worry about being different, because the world would be an awfully boring place if we were all the same. 

Remembering at Christmas

Everyone has Christmas traditions, new and old. My favourite tradition in our family is our Christmas decorations. My siblings and I get a new one every year on Christmas Eve and now I have 22, one for every year of my life. 

Christmas 2006 was our last Christmas together with my Mum.  We kept by all our traditions of the day and tried to enjoy it as best we could. We all knew she wouldn’t be with us next year. Organised as ever, my Mum had bought decorations for us for next Christmas, letting us choose our favourite and wrapping them up to be opened in 12 months.

December 2007 came, and decorating the tree made me finally realise that my Mum wouldn’t be coming back for Christmas.  The day was very emotional and there wasn’t the usual festive cheer.  On Christmas Eve Dad brought out our ornaments and there they were with Mum’s writing on them for each of us: “To Bridget, love Mum”.  It hurt so much to know that was the last physical encounter I would have with her.

Eight years on, I think my family has reclaimed Christmas.  I am thankful every year for what I still have, and all the decorations my Mum bought me over the years have their own meaning and memories.  

I’ve been grateful over the last 8 years that we held onto those customs that my Mum enjoyed. We carry them on now, not only as her traditions but as ours, and it’s one way that we can remember her at Christmas with a smile on our faces.

What about you?  Will you write and tell us something about your own family’s favourite Christmas traditions?