The owls in my Christmas tree.

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There are owls in my Christmas tree. Owl Christmas baubles, in various shapes and forms. Some handmade, some bought, some given. New ones are added and older ones are treasured.

I am not an owl fan. They aren’t an ornament I would normally collect, but along with the precious and treasured collection of owls ornaments from around the world that is displayed on a shelf in my home, there are owls in my Christmas tree and there always will be.

My mum collected owl ornaments. Something she did all of my childhood and something I remember well. We used to like to get her owl ornaments to add to her collection. It was a source of pride and joy for her. Some of the owls are very delicate and fragile, some of them are humorous and fun.

I add an owl ornament every now and then to the collection she left, and when I spot an owl Christmas bauble or decoration I think she might have liked, I place it with the others on the tree. And I remember.

I wish she could be here. I wish she could see her grandchildren, enjoying Christmas. She isn’t here though. She can’t be. I know she would have wanted to be.

My mum died on Boxing Day 1994. Christmas will always have a tinge of sadness for me. I wish she could be here. She can’t be. The owls on my tree are my way of remembering.

Christmas can be a hard time of year for those missing someone not there or experiencing loss and grief in its raw form. The pain doesn’t go away. It changes over time, but it’s still there. It changed me and my life in ways I wouldn’t wish on others. I can’t change that. But I will always remember.

Posted in Christmas and tagged Grief, loss, motherlessdaughters.

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