Trigger Warning:
This story contains themes of loss, a tragic accident, and deeply emotional experiences. It may be distressing to some readers. Please proceed with care and prioritize your well-being.
Mera Timbang Sultan always loved Christmas time.
It wasn’t just the colorful parols hanging from the windows or the sweet smell of bibingka and puto bumbong drifting from the kitchen. Christmas, for Mera, was family.
It was the noise, the laughter, the chaos of everyone crammed into one room, and the warmth of being together. It was the cheerful shouting and laughter as cousins battled it out in karaoke or the tense excitement of Pinoy Henyo games that left everyone in stitches. For Mera, that was Christmas.
But December 2021 changed all of it.
The familiar sound of voices raised in karaoke was absent. The laughter was gone. No cousins joking about who could sing the best love song. No uncles pretending they could still hit the high notes. The kitchen, which should have been alive with the scent of lechon (roasted pig), felt cold and distant.
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That December, the heart of their home was not a festive and glowing Christmas tree. In its place was a white coffin, cradling the body of the person she had hoped to celebrate Christmas with–her father.
Mera’s father, the man who used to lead the family in those lively games and belt out his favorite songs in karaoke, was no longer around.
“Grabe, dili gyud [ko ka-describe]. Wala ko kabalo, mura daw ko ug boang tan-awon. Dili nako madawat nga ako tong papa,” Mera shared.
(I couldn’t describe how I felt. I don’t know, it was like I was crazy. I couldn’t accept that it was my father.)
He was just 62 years old.
What used to be the centerpiece for the family’s Christmas celebrations turned into the place where their father’s coffin lay in 2021. | contributed photo
What many don’t realize is that for some, Christmas is a cruel reminder of absence. Mera’s story is an example of this.
For those who’ve lost someone close—whether through death, distance, or other painful separations—Christmas can feel more like a wound than a celebration. A stinging emptiness nothing could fill.
Mera, who is from Batuan City, Agusan del Norte, lost her father just four days before Christmas in a tragic and unfortunate road accident in 2021. He was run over by a loaded dump truck while crossing the road.
In the morning of December 21, 2021, Mera was in her office, when she received a call that would eventually change her life. It was from a barangay acquaintance asking her to check on her father.
Since the caller’s words were unsettling but vague, she immediately asked her younger sibling to check their father’s usual spot at their hut.
“I told my younger sibling to check but he wasn’t at the hut,” she recalled.
Upon discovering that her father wasn’t in the hut, Mera said she grew restless. Her mind raced with questions she couldn’t suppress. Why the sudden urgency? Where could he have gone?
Then came the dreaded news.
She was told to check on the news of a road accident since the identification card of the victim bore the surname ‘Timbang.’
“Ginadala-dala man gud sa ako papa iyang voter’s ID mao to niana sila nga ako daw i-check kay Timbang daw [ang apelyido],” Mera said.
(My father always carried with him his voter’s ID and that’s why they said to check because the surname of the fatality was Timbang.)
With trembling hands and a pounding heart, she left her office in haste, barely able to explain to her supervisor why she needed to leave.
At the police station, Mera’s worst fears were confirmed. Investigators told her that her father had been struck by a loaded dump truck and had died instantly at the scene. They explained that his body was taken straight to the morgue, bypassing the hospital, as there had been no chance of saving him.
“Wala na gyud ko kita sa akong papa nga bisan sa video dili ko mutan-aw.”
(I didn’t get to see my father even through a video, I didn’t look.)
She couldn’t bring herself to see him—not even a glimpse. Her husband was the one who entered the morgue and bore witness to the devastating aftermath. The truck’s weight had left his body broken and unrecognizable.
Mera was the third of her father’s children, but she had been the one left at home to care for her younger siblings. Losing him in such a sudden and violent manner shattered her. The driver of the truck, distracted by his phone, hadn’t noticed her father crossing the road. By the time he realized, it was too late.
The thought of her father’s last moments haunted her, so abrupt, so brutal. She struggled to accept the loss. The tragedy hung heavily over the family as Christmas approached.
Painful Christmas
Mera insisted on bringing her father’s body home, refusing to bury him before the holiday.
“Pagka sakita kay Pasko na Pasko gihaya siya. Dili namo madawat nga ingana. Dili mi kadawat hangtod karon…Ni ana man sila nga pwede na malubong si papa dayon pero ana ko dili kay ganahan ko mag Pasko si papa sa balay. Nag Pasko gihapon mi. After pasko na namo siya gilubong. At least, nakauban namo siya,” she said.
(It was very painful because at Christmas time we held his wake. We couldn’t accept it. We still can’t accept it even until now. They said we could bury my father right away but I said no because I wanted to celebrate Christmas with my father at home. We still celebrated Christmas. After Christmas, we buried him. At least, we still had him during Christmas.)
Christmas had never been the same since then.
Christmas used to be a happy time for Mera and her family. | contributed photo
And just when Mera thought the pain of losing her father was the hardest thing she’d ever endure, this year seems even heavier.
Their mother is battling stage 4 liver cirrhosis. She is 65. Now, the memories of their father’s sudden death is haunting the family.
“December baya ta ron…si papa December sad to. Unya karon, si mama ingani pod kalisod ingani iyang kahimtang samot ningbalik ang panghitabo kang papa. Ni ana gyud ko ni mama nga, ‘Ma, ayaw lang sa gyud dawat [ang kamatayon] kay wala pami ka recover kang papa’,” Mera shared.
(It’s December now. Our father died in December. Now, our mother is sick and it’s difficult. The memories of my father’s passing is back. I told my mother, ‘please don’t accept death because we haven’t recovered from dad.’)
How to cope with loss during Christmas
The holiday season, often a time for family traditions and joyful gatherings, can feel profoundly different for those mourning the loss of a loved one.
According to Kareen May Lambatan, a registered psychometrician and psychologist, the absence of a family member changes the way people experience these cherished traditions, especially during the first year of grief.
”Every family has its own way of celebrating Christmas, and the most common is to gather with family and friends. The loss of a loved one, especially during the first year, makes these traditions feel different,” she said.
The pain of loss becomes even more pronounced as the realization sets in that the person is no longer there to share with the celebrations.
“The realization that the person is not there anymore—to share the moment, to hug you, or even just to be there—brings a sense of something missing. It feels like the familiar has changed, and that change is marked by pain and loss,” Lambatan added.
The absence of a loved one creates a sense of longing and unfamiliarity, which transforms the joy of the season into something bittersweet.
Lambatan explained that the familiar routines and traditions often highlight the void left behind, making the holidays a time of both remembrance and sorrow.
“There’s an ambivalence—dili ka sure kung malipay ba ka or masad. Society expects you to be joyful during Christmas, but your personal sorrow creates confusion. Seeing others celebrate can intensify the longing and bring back painful memories”
But Lambatan said that grieving individuals are not obligated to take part in celebrations if they are not emotionally ready.
“You can decide which traditions or events feel right for you. Lean on your support system—your family and friends—or create new traditions that help you heal,” she said.
She encourages people to choose traditions and activities that align with their current emotional state. Leaning on supportive family and friends, or even creating new traditions, can help ease the emotional burden. Spending time in different environments or engaging in meaningful activities such as journaling, art, or music can also provide an outlet for healing.
“There are ways to ground yourself, like journaling, creating art, listening to music, or anything that distracts you and helps you process your emotions,” Lambatan said.
Finding gratitude amid grief can also be a powerful way to cope. While the pain of loss may persist, Lambatan advised focusing on the things that still bring meaning and joy. Acknowledging these moments of gratitude can offer a sense of hope and grounding, even in the face of sorrow.
“Though there’s pain, there are still things to be thankful for. Focusing on what’s meaningful to you can be a source of comfort,” she said.
Lambatan reminded everyone that the process of grieving is deeply personal. Each individual navigates it differently, and it is essential to allow oneself to heal at their own pace.
“We all have our own way of grieving. What’s important is that you allow yourself to heal at your own pace,” she said.