Handling That First Holiday Season After The Death of a Loved One
đ¶You better not pout, you better not cryâŠđ¶
Grief can hit like a hammer during the holiday season.
Or so Iâve heard.
Yes, my tongue is a little in my cheek with this one: Christmas Day 2025 will mark eighteen months to the day in which my mama passed, and I still have yet to be hit with a deep, overwhelming sadness about it. (Sadness vs. missing her madly are two very different things, if you know you know.)
Still, between June 25th, 2024 and June 25th, 2025, my family had to deal with that year of âfirstsâ. Mamaâs 71st birthday would have been just seventeen days past her passing; on a day when we had planned to rent a boat on Twin Lakes because all three of us believed sheâd get over her latest hump of battling leptomeningeal metastasis, we were in our backyard with family members celebrating her life without her.
POW.
Next up was my 40th birthday, which she promised me in earnest that sheâd make it to. It certainly wasnât her fault she came up short.
Yes, other holidays hit others in my family harder than others, particularly my dad when April 1st, 2025 came around - that would have been their 47th wedding anniversary, and their 46th was spent feeding Mama waffles on the couch days before what ended up being her official terminal diagnosis.
Still, celebrating that general end - of - year holiday stretch without a loved one shows an absolutely glaring absence, no matter what way you may be grieving. Everything is glittery while you may be feeling dimmed.
If I may offer some tips?
Just feel all of the feelings + accept that as ânormalâ: No one in their right mind would expect anyone to be well-adjusted during such a time, no matter where a person is in their grieving process. Those first holidays are an adjustment, so allow yourself the space to evaluate, recalibrate, and justâŠsit in it.
Give yourself permission to grieve: The most striking thing about Christmas 2024, which ended up being the exact 6-month anniversary of Mamaâs passing, was the loud and visible absence of her not sitting at the third middle chair of the dining room table, oohing and ahhing over a new book of crossword puzzles, a soft cardigan, or a new neo-soul album. While Christmas 2024 was surprisingly joyous and loving, the longing for Mama to still be there was inescapable. I knew itâd come, so I let myself feel it.
Donât feel bad about saying ânoâ: Sometimes going out can be a great distraction; for me, I took advantage of every holiday party I was invited to last year to wrangle up some joy. There was also a lot of pressure to see every family member that reached out to me; I did my best to set boundaries because I rode a fine line of âI need to take care of myselfâ vs. âI realize this is also my auntâs / uncleâs / cousinâs / Mamaâs friendâs first Christmas without her.â I tried to decenter. Last year, I did spread myself a little thin thinking of others. This year, I think I have the guts to dial it back a bit if I feel a wave of holiday grief hit.
Draw comfort from others: Friends, family, and my lover boy made things better - or at least tolerable enough to continue - in my lowest moments. To broadly reference some previous Substack posts Iâve made, I still contend that my biggest support system as I was grieving was that of my closest friends at work. (Hell, I doubt they read this Substack if theyâre smart, haaaa, but my work besties Casey, Eric, Kalista, and Tawny deserve ALL of the flowers.) As much as many people love remote work, being in a 4 days in / 1 day WFH situation was, low-key, a blessing as I navigated my grief in 2024; if I had worked mainly or fully remotely, I truly believe I would have been a lot worse off. If someone lends you a helping hand or a shoulder to lean on in any way, do not hesitate - you are not a burden for doing so.
Know what makes you feel GOOD: Be it playing a holiday playlist, sitting in your favorite bubble bath + Epsom salt duo, reading a good book, watching a comforting TV show, beasting a family-sized bag of Utz potato chips with French onion dip, or doing an invigorating exercise circuit, have whatever you need close to you so you can indulge in your safe bits of comfort.
Journal away!: My dysgraphia keeps me from penning things down, but if yâall could see how many random journal files I have in my Google Docs⊠đ A good mental purge from brain to paper - be it physical or virtual - can do wonders! Let it all out.
This year, the trend continues, as it is simply a part of life: more friends and acquaintances my age have lost their parents. ItâsâŠitâs just going to keep happening. The only things certain in life are death and taxes, eh?
I canât say that any one person will get through the holidays unscathed, so I canât be too cheery in this post, but I can be realistic. Iâll use âcanâ over âwillâ: Normalcy can come, whatever that may look like. Stability can eventually flood back through. You can have a good holiday season while navigating grief. You can still make it special and honor those youâve lost.
JustâŠtake care, dears. Take all the care and time you need. â€ïž