(LifeSiteNews) — It has been just under two years since my sister died unexpectedly from a medical emergency. As you might imagine, life for our family looks slightly different now – especially around Christmastime. Her absence is felt most sharply during this season when her joy and bubbly personality shined through the most.
My sister was what you might call a Christmas fanatic. By that, I mean she possessed an almost inexhaustible enthusiasm for the holidays, coupled with an unmatched generosity that defines it. Among other things, she couldn’t help herself when it came to buying gifts. Whether you were her sibling, cousin, neighbor, or an old friend she met in college 20 years ago, my sister had the uncanny ability to buy – or often times make – the perfect gift for you. Once you were her friend, she made sure to remind you of it. Christmas wasn’t complete for her unless she found some way – no matter how small – to make everyone she knew feel remembered.
One of the most meaningful Christmas gifts she ever gave me was a handmade rosary. I did not know she was planning to make it, nor did I expect it. Just one month earlier, during our family’s Thanksgiving get together, she casually asked me what my two favorite colors were. I didn’t give it much thought and flippantly replied, “Orange and blue.” She just replied “okay, good to know” and changed the subject. I never thought she would do anything with that information.
Lo and behold, on Christmas Day in 2024, she handed me a rosary that she had made herself, strung together with orange and blue beads. It was a simple, personal, and deeply intentional gift. My sister was the most creative person in our family, and her artistic spirit shone through in that gift. But more than creativity, that rosary reflected her generosity. She was always thinking of others, and was always attentive to how she could bring joy into someone else’s life. She knew I took my faith seriously and that it would mean a lot to me to receive something like that.
My sister also loved to decorate. Aside from the candy canes and tinsel she put up around the house, the Christmas tree at my parents’ home always went up far too early and came down far too late in the new year thanks to her. She would spend hours arranging the lights, positioning ornaments, and ensuring everything felt just right. She even created ornaments herself for me and my family members. Each one was unique and made with love, which was a reflection of who she was.
And then there were the movies. During Christmastime, my sister always had something playing on the television, for better or worse. Whether it was A Christmas Story, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, It’s a Wonderful Life, or one of her other seasonal favorites, she made sure every year to watch all of them. She did this, mind you, curled up on the couch with a warm cup of coffee or hot chocolate topped off with whipped cream and sprinkles in her hand. A bowl of buttery popcorn was within arms length, too, as was the crackling of burning wood in the fireplace.
This Christmas will be the second one without my sister. As time passes, different thoughts and emotions emerge. It’s easy given the daily grind of life and the natural inclination to “move on” and forget to pause and remember those who have gone before us. Too often, we neglect not only to think about our loved ones who have died, but also – and more importantly – to pray for them.
Yet there are things I will never forget about my sister. Her love for Christmas, her generosity, her creativity, and her joy-filled outlook on life are some of the things my memory will never let go of. In remembering her, I am reminded that Christmas is not merely about decorations, gifts, or movies. It is about love freely given, joy shared without reservation, and the quiet ways we choose to care for and show our appreciation for one another. In that sense, my sister still teaches me something at Christmastime and perhaps always will. To learn more about my sister, click here.
