I have been so bloomingly and naively unaware of grief at Christmas. Call me simple or sheltered or disconnected from reality or just pure blessed. For me, even as a child in Romania with not too much to receive at Christmas, the season has always been cheerful and sometimes even magical. I realised early on that Christmas, like any other major festive celebration over the year, is not so much about things or food as it is about people. So I trained myself to recreate a patch of magic on every special occasion, especially since we had Emma, using simple things like a Christmas tree, festive baking and most importantly, spending time together. But this year the reality has hit me on various occasions: only yesterday, a Facebook friend was sharing the sad news of her dad’s passing. Just this morning I read a very raw article on Parentdish by  a lady who finds herself single at Christmas, after the failure of her 10 year marriage. Not to mention the blog entries or Facebook updates …