With everything that stirs us up again, these dates filled with past moments – funny images, impromptu theatricals by the little ones, dancing, and the spark of excitement in the eyes of the young and not-so-young – it’s hard…

A simple “happy holidays” feels, as I say, very “Grinch-like.” It’s not that it’s unappreciated, but it seems absurd, doesn’t it? Of course, we are here, and moving forward seems necessary, though sometimes you just wish the days would pass. I don’t know where we find the strength to fill the tree with hope. Maybe it’s that giving brings more joy than receiving.

With effort, we move forward, creating beautiful moments with the people I love. A tree now reminds me of those afternoons decorating the whole house. It’s been a struggle internally, but there it stands, lighting up our most intimate space, our comfort zone, with a new and unique little ornament. Curious, at least – a detail that for others might just be part of the décor, but for us, it’s a symbol of welcome, acceptance, and continuity, always together.

It hurts to accept that, in another life, in another place, it might go on. In another dimension, as some scholars suggest, I hold onto that hope, though… oh, how much I miss him. That’s something that will stay with me until my last day.

I was greatly helped by listening to a mother reflect on what she would have preferred – in my case, having 18 years by his side or never having had him at all. Obviously, I’d always choose the first option. And that understanding helps me see that pain transforms into absolute love. Being able to remember moments lived as a privilege, laughing with him, thinking of what he’d say now, or what he’d do – it’s all a part of me because, in his way, he’s still here with me.

I don’t like to say that time heals. It heals our attitude, our way of feeling him, dreaming of him, facing each new day, loving him despite everything and above all, as the months pass, I feel my internal process evolving. Accepting that everything that unsettles us is normal, understandable and necessary helps make this journey through grief more bearable. We will always miss the ones who leave empty chairs behind, but they remain in our hearts and souls, millions of miles away, lighting our path and sending us signs when we need them most.

I know it will always hurt deep down – the pain of seeing his light fade, the injustice and bitterness of his departure. How badly things were handled and how their negligence, incompetence, and indifference caused his death – a life sustained by an artificial respirator until we had to make the decision to disconnect it. All of this lives with us every day, even though the curtain of life moving forward for everyone else hides it. Images of desperation and helplessness alongside Oscar will always stay with us, part of our memory.

I long for beautiful memories to overshadow his final days. I wish with all my heart for my energy to be positive and for his light, as his gravestone says, to illuminate our path.

The tears come unexpectedly. A memory, an image, reminds me of how unfair life can be. It’s comforting to understand and accept, without fear, that we all have an expiration date and that one day, it will be our turn. Some will mourn the absence of others. Hopefully, we can also toast to those who have left this life – for them and everything we experienced together. May the moments we shared with them soften the pain of their absence. It has been an honor to have known them.

So, during this Christmas as with other special dates, I ask to feel serene, calm, surrounded by my loved ones and strong enough to face the absence of his smile, his complaints about never eating shrimp and not liking ham, and his happiness with just a lemon fanta and some croquettes.

Life gives and takes without permission. Feeling every moment, looking into the eyes of those around us, loving deeply, being grateful or not, feeling fortunate or not – that’s up to each of us and the time we need to live one more day.

To all those who warmed my frozen heart, those who comforted my body with a hug, those who gave their time – the most valuable thing we have—to catch my tears and listen without judgment, those who made me laugh until I couldn’t anymore with their humour, grace, and words, those who followed my steps and lit my path, those who said good morning or good night day after day, and especially those whose world changed when Oscar arrived and stayed in their hearts – to all of you, I wish the best gifts we can possess, give, create, and feel: health and love.

One day at a time.