Here’s the thing about holiday grief-–it’s yours. You can be how you need to be with it. You don’t have to be festive if you don’t want to. You don’t have to make merry if you don’t want to. You don’t have to celebrate and entertain if you don’t want to. You don’t have to go over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house if you don’t want to.
And you don’t have to apologize for not wanting to do any of it either.
I’ve been thinking recently that this COVID isolation has actually provided an unexpected respite for those dealing with the loss of a deeply loved one. Although my holidays are a bit more joyful again (though never the same), I remember the first few years after so unexpectedly losing Roger (those first few years are the absolute hardest). I remember feeling like I still had to show up and “shine” at all the holiday parties and gatherings in spite of how much I just wanted to curl up in a ball and never get out of bed again. Partly because I was sure no one wanted to share space with a deeply hurting, barely-hanging-on “Debbie Downer” (pun intended) during their festive holiday gatherings, and partly because I didn’t want my sadness to take away from their joy during them.
In all honesty, it often took every ounce of heart and mind and physical energy I had to show up. Of course, I also had three sons who I felt needed me to be strong to help them get through the holidays as well. And I would have done anything for them. So it was worth the price if it helped them.
But I also realize now that it was OK to be where I was then. To need less people, less music, less festivities, less loudness, less memories, less everything. It was OK to be sad, to feel a bit hopeless, to both desperately need family and friends and also not want to be with anyone. To rebel with everything inside of me that I had to put up a Christmas tree or sing a carol. (You don’t have to, by the way. You don’t have to do any of those things if you don’t want to.)
All of the things and all the feelings are appropriate simultaneously. More than one truth and/or feeling can coexist at the same time. There are no rules to grieving, no scorecard, no Official Grief Council who gets to judge where you are in your grief journey.
So the most helpful thing I can tell you if you’re grieving this holiday season is to do what feels right for you and helps you take care of yourself. You get to choose how you travel through the bittersweet land of grief.
I hope others will understand your needs this holiday season, but if they don’t, they don’t. You have enough surviving to do right now without having to carry the burden of everyone else’s desires and expectations. Set your boundaries and take care of yourself and those you need to take care of. And do it in a way that makes the season bearable for you.
May you find peace and comfort and make the brave choices you need to so that you might come out of the holidays with a little more strength and a little more hope than you went into them with. And may you know and find rest in the “God of all comfort” who longs to provide the peace and hope you need during this long winter’s night.
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“…God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” 2 Corinthians 1:3–4 [NLT]
