Widow's Voice

A Quiet Christmas

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When I was growing up, we never had huge family gatherings for holidays. I can remember maybe a handful of Christmas days where my grandparents on my dad’s side stopped by for like an hour (and they only lived like 15 minutes away). I think a couple times my uncle, also on my dad’s side, came down from Los Angeles. I remember once we went to my dad’s sister’s house for a couple hours.

The grandfather on my mom’s side died the year before I was born. My grandma on that side and my mom’s sisters lived in Pennsylvania.

We just didn’t have a big, close-knit family. So it was almost always just my mom, my dad, and me every Christmas. But I loved it. My parent’s always made it special and I have many fond memories from Christmas days past.

After Mario and I got married, he really appreciated how low key and drama free my family’s version of Christmas was.

This is now the second Christmas without my dad and the fifth one without Mario.

I went and picked up my mom so we could spend the day at my house. She doesn’t have the energy anymore to decorate or do holiday cooking. I love decorating, especially the tree, and I actually enjoy cooking too.

We sat on the couch opening presents in front of the fireplace and tree. My mom really enjoyed all the small things I got for her. And I enjoyed the couple gifts she got me.

We had an early dinner of gnocchi with homemade sauce. Simple comfort food. For dessert, I made a special batch of thumbprint cookies off a modified recipe I created that swapped regular sugar for monk fruit since my mom is a diabetic. All the food came out great.

While I was fussing in the kitchen, my mom asked me, “Did you ever think it would just be us … we’d be the only ones left?”

Hindsight is of course 20/20. But the question gave me pause and thinking about it, I realized how much I always avoided thinking about the far future without people I loved in my life. I realized my mom’s Christmases are numbered, so unlike the days of old, I am thinking about the future now.

After our meal, we tuned into the Broncos and Chiefs game. My mom and I both love football, but we’re diehard Charger’s fans. It pained me to actually root for the Chiefs. Of course they didn’t win. The Chargers actually put an official end to their dynasty, ruining what little playoff chances they had and their star QB is out.

After the game, I took my mom home and hung out there for a couple hours. I got back to my house around 10pm, had a little snack, and settled in with a movie. Another quiet, mellow Christmas in the memory banks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About Sherry Holub

I met my spouse, Mario, at UCLA School of Art in 1993. After graduating in 1995, I founded a small agency specializing in web and graphic design. Mario became my partner in the company in 1999. In 2002, we were married at the Costa Mesa, CA court house because neither of us wanted a big wedding ceremony (after already being together since 1995).

Mario was a highly talented artist, musician, illustrator and 3D Designer, but a tortured one. He was one of those gentle, creative souls who ended up burning twice as bright for half as long. Mario lost the battle with liver disease induced by alcoholism (almost exactly 6 months after he became sober) on 2/10/21.

I’m a long-time artist and writer with a background in photography who enjoys cooking, getting outdoors, staying young at heart, and sharing experiences to potentially help others. When it comes to writing, I’ve written both for fun and professionally over the years. Writing is also sometimes therapy for me and I don’t mind sharing my personal experiences with a wider audience.