As the days follow after a loved one dies, I find I often heard from friends and family was that old saying “the first holidays are always the hardest” maybe, maybe not. I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness so if you did not know that about me you now do. So those that are familiar with the religion you know that they do not celebrate certain holidays. (You may have caught the they and not we, I have moved on from that life now) Growing up I did not celebrate Birthdays, Christmas, Easter, etc. etc. You get the idea. Please no sympathy we had all we needed in life and did not go without I assure you, most likely spoiled as a result. So for me those first holiday’s after my parents passed away I did not find as difficult as I did those special moments in life.
My granddaughter’s and grandson births for me was the hardest, I remember wishing my mom could have been there celebrating with me, she loved her grandchildren like no other so I knew she would have been an amazing great-grandmother.
As the years passed there was a lot a resentment towards those that were still among us and able to be part of those special moments, like births and weddings. There were many times I questioned why they were here, but my own were not.