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[writingvixen]

It hits me in such quiet moments. Just now I'm sitting here planning Christmas - shopping online for the people I need to get gifts for - and I start thinking about Christmas day. My brain immediately sees Darren, Mom, Dad and me playing cards together and laughing. We would usually play Spades - a favorite of my parents that they taught Darren

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[reynardo]

You don't. Because there will always be that hole. That gap. The person who won't be making the terrible voices when they read out the cracker jokes. The one who tries to lick their plate when no-one is watching.

But it changes. It becomes less of a pain and more of an ache. Then it's a twinge. It goes from bursting into tears to sad faces to a smile with a slight twist.

The first Christmas after my brother died, my mother said "Fuck this", and refused to have a wreath on the front door - instead she bought a lovely corn doily that she still uses today (28 years later). She splurged on the expensive crackers for once. And during Christmas dinner, she would excuse herself and go out for a few moments to cry, then come back in.

So it won't go. It'll change into something different, and you'll have his picture watching you, so he'll be there.