The Christmas season brings with it an abundance of memories. From the excitement and anticipation that we felt as children to the joy of watching our own children and grandchildren at Christmas. But along with the happy memories, there are also those that are tinged with sadness and longing for those no longer with us. Here, Ann Deveau shares with us the pain of losing her beloved brother, finding a way to honour his memory and working her way back to a place of comfort and joy.
A tree filled with memories!
My brother absolutely loved Christmas.
Bob taught his little boys that it was the birthday of Jesus and always put up a nativity scene before he bought and decorated their Christmas tree. He chose gifts thoughtfully for family and friends, loved to munch on "chicken bones" candy while the turkey was roasting, and belted out off-key Christmas songs such as "Little Drummer Boy."
He died of cancer at age 45.
The first Christmas he was gone, I wondered how I would get through such an emotional time while grieving. He was my only sibling, and I missed him terribly.
A wise friend suggested that I do something special to honour Bob's memory, so I made a charitable donation of library books in his name. Nice but not enough.
Then an idea struck me. I would create a Bob tree!
I bought a two-foot artificial tree, some white lights, and started gathering ornaments meaningful to his life. For example, I hung tiny photos of his boys on the tree, a crocheted lighthouse because we're from Nova Scotia, a Boston Red Sox ornament because it was his favourite team, glittery red balls because he loved that colour, a miniature manger scene, a little drummer boy, a book because he was a voracious reader, a soccer ball ornament because he played and coached. Well, you get the idea!
That first Christmas without Bob, I sobbed as I placed each item on the little tree. The tears flowed annually for several years. I kept adding more Bob-specific ornaments. It became my ritual every December, and it brought me great comfort.
It still does. But now, after 22 years, I smile more than I cry as I trim the Bob tree.
- by Ann Deveau
Read another Christmas reflection about Ann and her brother, PA-RUM-PUM-PUM-PUM, which was shared in 2020.
Ann Deveau's "Bob Tree"
