The holidays are the worst. They are the hardest for me. The first one without my granddaughter was Halloween. I remember decorating the front yard with pumpkins and little ghosts in hopes her parents might drive by. I wanted them to see the joy we still tried to hold on to—for her. I did it like a prayer, thinking if I pretended she was coming, maybe—just maybe—she would. As you can probably guess, she didn’t.
Thanksgiving in an Empty Kitchen
Then came Thanksgiving. That one hit especially hard. We used to gather the whole family at my house. I did most of the cooking, and the kids would bring their favorite dishes. For the last few years, we always made a standing rib roast—it was my daughter-in-law’s favorite. She’s a meat-and-potatoes kind of girl.
This time around, we didn’t even try. My husband and I went out of town to keep our minds busy, to avoid the silence in the house. I call this situation a rift—it sounds softer, more temporary than the word “alienated.”
Christmas Was the Worst
But nothing compares to Christmas. I went shopping and bought gifts for my granddaughter, knowing full well we wouldn’t see her. Still, a part of me clung to the idea that there might be a sliver of hope.
As Christmas got closer, the weight of it got heavier. I sent a few texts. Wrote a few emails. I asked—kindly, hopefully—if I could see her, even just for a little while. No response. Not a yes, not a no. Just silence.
It broke me. I ended up breaking down in front of friends at one of our monthly gatherings. The pain of not seeing my son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter is something I can’t really put into words. Even now, writing this, the depth of sadness is indescribable.
New Year’s Eve Through Valentine’s
I made it through New Year’s Eve. That holiday was always one of my son’s favorites, second only to Memorial Day weekend. He’s always liked barbecues. Grilling steaks and horseshoe competitions. He loves a reason to celebrate.
Valentine’s Day didn’t sting quite as much. I’ve never put too much stock in that holiday. My husband never makes a big deal of it, so I’ve long since detached any expectations from the day. It passed quietly.
Now Easter Is Around the Corner
Easter is coming soon, and with it, a new wave of memories. When the kids were small, I used to sew matching outfits for church and we’d head to sunrise service. Afterward, we’d have breakfast and take part in an Easter Egg Hunt on the church lawn. My granddaughter would’ve loved that.
Last year, I made her a beautiful basket and dropped it off at their house. I didn’t understand at the time why my son didn’t seem very excited about Easter. Maybe things were already unraveling, and I chose not to see it. We still had one more outing with our granddaughter after that—a visit to a mall event where they had a giant egg hunt. I didn’t know that would be the last time for a while.
Still, I plan to make her a basket again this year. I’ve thought about reaching out—just to ask if I can stop by and leave it, maybe even get a quick hug.
My friends tell me to just do it. Just drive over and drop it off. But everything I’ve read and everything my therapist tells me says don’t. That it might push them further away.
Holidays Are The Worst. Full Stop
I’ve tried everything I can think of to make things right. She asked me to go to therapy, and I did. I’ve worked with two different therapists over the past year. I hired a life coach. I’m learning to see this situation through a different lens. I’ve watched hours of videos on parental alienation and generational trauma. I’ve started reading Nonviolent Communication to understand how to express myself better and rebuild trust with my son. I’m showing up for the work. I really am.
His Birthday
I was holding it together until yesterday. It was my son’s birthday. We have a group text for the family—it’s always been our way of staying connected. I was the first to wish him a happy birthday. Everyone else chimed in after. He replied to everyone. Everyone except my husband and me. Not a word back.
It may sound small, but it stung. Still, I try to see the good: he unblocked my number. That’s something, right? A small step. But even so, the silence hurts.
Right now, I will be in all of my feelings, and I am entitled to that. But I don’t know what else to do, and waiting is not sitting well with me.
Extending an Olive Branch
I want to extend an olive branch. I want to start the work of repairing what’s been broken. But waiting until someone else is perfectly ready feels a little like waiting until you can afford to have kids—you’ll never feel 100% ready.
At some point, someone has to take a step. Someone has to open the door because people—especially family—deserve a chance to come back together. To be seen for who they are now, not who they were.
My Easter Wish
Everyone plays a role in how relationships fracture. So, everyone should have a place at the table when it’s time to heal. I’m not saying I didn’t make mistakes. I did. But I know it wasn’t all my fault either.
Not every story is the same. Some families are dealing with deep, painful histories that require professional help. But some families? Some just need someone to start. To show love. To stay open.
This Easter, that’s my wish: that love finds a way forward. That hope cracks through, just enough to let the light in.