Bruce Willis' wife says Christmas joy can feel 'tangled in a web of grief' amid his dementia battle

Christmas Day brings both joy and heartbreak for Bruce Willis' wife.

"For me, the holidays carry memories of Bruce being at the center of it all," the 47-year-old wrote.

"He loved this time of year - the energy, the family time, the traditions. He was the pancake maker, the get-out-in-the-snow-with-the-kids guy, the steady presence moving through the house as the day unfolded. There was comfort in the routine of knowing exactly how the day would go, especially since I'm a creature of habit."

The association describes frontotemporal degeneration as "an inevitable decline in functioning," with an average life expectancy of seven to 13 years after the onset of symptoms. The progressive disease is terminal, and there is no cure.

"I find myself, harmlessly, cursing Bruce's name while wrestling with the holiday lights or taking on tasks that used to be his," she wrote. "Not because I'm mad at him - never that - but because I miss the way he once led the holiday charge. Yes, he taught me well, but I'm still allowed to feel annoyed that this is one more reminder of how things have changed."

The holidays, which once brought "uncomplicated joy," can now arrive "tangled in a web of grief," she said.

Emma said one of the hardest parts of the holidays as a caregiver is the expectation to make everything feel "normal," even as she quietly mourns the life she once shared with her husband.

"We're surrounded by images of what the holidays are supposed to look like - perfectly decorated homes, lighthearted gatherings, smiling faces captured in matching pajamas," she reflected. "Even when we know these images are curated, they can still create a sense of failure and extra loss when our reality doesn't match. When dementia is part of your family, 'normal' becomes a moving target."

"For a long time, I wanted the holidays to remain exactly as they were, as if this might protect us from what was happening," Emma wrote. "But I'm learning that flexibility isn't giving up. It's adapting. It's choosing compassion and reality over perfection. It's understanding that meaning doesn't live in the size of the gathering or the polish of the day. It lives in presence."

"Grief is not a sign of ingratitude. It's a sign of love," she stressed.

"There's no denying that the holidays are different now. But different doesn't mean empty. It doesn't mean broken. It doesn't mean devoid of meaning. There is still connection. There is still love. There is still joy to be had. And if this season feels heavy for you, please know that you're not alone. You're not doing it wrong. And there is no single 'right' way to move through this time of year when dementia is part of your life. There is only your way. And that is enough."

Over the years, Emma has sought guidance from doctors and experts to better understand FTD, its progression and what caregivers can do to give loved ones the best quality of life possible. She's been sharing her findings and conversations on social media.

"I love and care for my husband so much," she told Fox News Digital in September.

"I want him to go into this next chapter of his life being cared for and loved. But I think what has also helped me is the advocacy part of all this, being able to use my voice to help somebody else. That has been really comforting to me, to be able to share what I've learned along the way. I think being able to give back in any way I can has been the way for me to continue walking through this journey."

Emma said she hopes that by going public with a private, devastating experience, other caregivers won't feel alone in their journeys. But today, it's about taking things one day at a time - for herself and her husband.