This Christmas was hard. Excalibur had crossed the Rainbow Bridge the day before Christmas Eve leaving us all heartbroken and our plans in ruin.
My parents thankfully arrived on Christmas Eve and played with the boys whilst we tried to pull ourselves together and make Christmas happen – and at 3.30a.m on Christmas morning, the mister and I finally finished wrapping and tidying, and headed off to bed.
All I could wonder was, would they notice?
Would they sense the lack of magic, the little touches?
Would they be disappointed that instead of the reindeer station we made last year to create our food for Father Christmas’ flying friends was replaced by me rummaging through the cupboards for random ingredients?
Were they sad that their elves didn’t get up to mischief this year as they usually do?
Did they miss the reading of the Night Before Christmas as I bundled them into the car to tour the lights of our Crescent in a desperate attempt to get them to sleep so that I could get things ready for them?
And did they realise it wasn’t a sleigh overhead, but their dad shaking the sleigh bells in the porch as they set off to tour the lights?
I’ll never know. But I tried my best to make memories, and here they are.
The rest of our photos are on Facebook. Here’s to a fresh start in 2015.