It’s Time To Change….
It’s the final Sunday before the big day and we are joined by Kerry Smith who is an Operations Managers for TMS Development International and reflects on the theme of “Its Time to Change”.
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Over to Kerry.
A broad topic, and one I’ve found hard to write about. I wasn’t sure where to start, or what angle to take.
So I started by reading the 17 blog posts so far, all in one sitting. I knew I wasn’t in the usual Advent-blogging zone this year, I couldn’t work out why. Reading them helped. I found my angle, and I also realised whilst writing why I’m not in the zone for this, or, in many ways, for Christmas itself.
My time to change isn’t a chosen one. It’s enforced. And I know many people will be experiencing something similar. The way we think about and celebrate Christmas is changing this year because of loss.
It’s not a new loss, and it’s not a human one. Those who know me well know that earlier this year we lost our dog, Sheba. It was traumatic, and thinking about it still is. We don’t have children, and she was the centre of our world. She gave us purpose, routine, joy, and a reason to structure our days the way we did.
Because of that, our Christmas traditions are changing.
It’s the small things that hurt. Finding her advent calendar and knowing it won’t be full of home baked treats this year. The gifts we won’t be buying her. The cards to be written no longer including her name. Thinking of the Christmas Eve card just for her, with treats inside so she would “open” it. No photos of her surrounded by far too many presents. The Christmas-themed treats we don’t need to buy. The upcoming long Christmas walks without her. Not having a thousand reasons to take yet another photo.
All of it is changing.
When a bereavement happens, it becomes a time of enforced change. Something that can’t be reframed as an opportunity in the way we often frame change.
We know Christmas can be difficult for people who are missing loved ones. But how often do we stop and think about the scale of change they’re experiencing? Do we ask if they’re OK and really listen to the answer? Or do we hope they are, and carry on ploughing through traditions, social plans, and expectations, quietly ignoring the fact that this season may feel completely different for them?
Sometimes a quiet, real-life catch-up can mean more than another festive event. Sometimes acknowledging the change is more important than trying to smooth it over.
Traditions evolve. They change. And not always by choice. Acknowledging that helps, because it gives permission to grieve what was, to let go of what’s no longer possible, and to move through the season in a way that feels survivable.
This year, Christmas looks different. There’s no lesson in that, just that some years are about getting through rather than trying to maintain and recreate traditions.
Sheba, with her Santa hat on.

