The mother of a cop shot dead in Brooklyn seven years ago will celebrate Christmas this year by bringing her son’s favorite candy — Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups — to his grave.  Tatyana Timoshenko and other relatives of slain cops have come up with their own special ways to find joy and meaning around Christmas.  Donations pour in to Daily News fund to help slain cops' families — FIND OUT HOW TO CONTRIBUTE  Three men opened fire on Timoshenko’s 23-year-old son, Russel Timoshenko, when he and a partner pulled over a stolen BMW in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, in July 2007.  Timoshenko, 48, has barely celebrated the holidays since her son’s murder. But when she does, she goes to her son’s final resting spot at Moravian Cemetery on Staten Island.  Earlier this month, she placed a holiday-decorated blanket and two small Christmas trees at his grave.  “We had only one son and our life was for him,” Timoshenko told the Daily News. “With him gone, there’s nothing left.”  She used to rejoice in the season when her son was alive.  “When he became a police officer he worked on Christmas,” she said. “But he always called me — always, always, always. If he wasn’t working, we would always spend it together.”  Relatives of other slain cops have found a variety of ways to observe the holidays.  Brian Perry, 40, was just 6 when his 32-year-old dad, Port Authority Patrolman William Perry, was shot to death on a crowded Jersey City PATH train platform three days before Christmas in 1980.  This year he will dress as Santa on Christmas and take pictures with his 18-month-old son. The baby is named after his grandfather, who was gunned down when he got into an argument with his killer, who had been smoking on a train.  Perry said it took years as a child for Christmas to start feeling anything like Christmas again. Thanks to the determination of his loving mom, it eventually did.  “Christmas changes and morphs and you make the most of it,” he said.  “It’s a new normal, not the old normal. There’s always that loss.”  Perry, who now works in finance and lives in San Diego, is excited to give his baby son a tepee with a moose-shaped sleeping bag inside on Christmas.  “We’ve got the house all decked out,” he said. “I’ll be waking up and opening up presents.”  For Nicole Demby, 39, who was 7 when her father was gunned down in Brooklyn in October 1982, the joy of Christmas has waxed and waned over the years.  “It was my father’s favorite holiday,” she recalled. “He made (it) a big deal. He made sure the tree was trimmed.”  Her 42-year-old dad, Officer James Whittington, was shot three times in Brownsville after intervening while off-duty in a fight between a man and a woman.  “When you’re 7 years old, Christmas is everything,” she said.  “You’re thinking about all the gifts you’re going to get. All of a sudden, you go from Christmas being associated with happiness to sadness. There were a lot of tears.”  For Demby, now a lawyer living in Brooklyn, and her family, this year has all the makings of another tough holiday. Her father’s killer, Mitchell Martin, is up for parole for the first time.  “We just spoke before the Parole Board a month ago and are waiting for a decision right now,” she said.  “We had to talk about all the graduations and weddings and holidays my father wasn’t here to enjoy with us. It set up the tone for this holiday season.”  Her sadness only deepened when she heard the news Saturday that two Brooklyn cops, Rafael Ramos and Wenjian Liu, had been assassinated while sitting in their patrol car.  Port Authority Patrolman William Perry is seen with his son Brian Perry.  Brian Perry is seen with his wife Kristi and his son William.  “You stop breathing for a second — and you just pray for that family,” she said. “For me, it’s definitely pushed me over the edge.”  But her 11-month-old daughter rescues her from total despair.  “The only thing that’s stopping me from going to that place again is my daughter,” she explained. “It’s her first Christmas.”  So on Christmas Day, her family will gather at her mother’s house and find a way to celebrate.  “We’re just going to be together and lean on each other,” she said.  “We’re going to try to find joy.”
Families of slain police officers have found ways to celebrate the holidays, but the occasion is no longer the same as it used to be.