Grief and Loss at the Holidays
Are you experiencing the loss of a loved one this holiday season?
It’s that delicate subject that no one wants to bring up, so as not to make you sad(der), but that hole representing their presence on earth is worse when people avoid talking about them. Since my dad passed in 1984, one of the best gifts anyone has ever given me has been sharing a story about their memories of him.
The week before Thanksgiving, my Aunt Judy died. She was a character – married to my Uncle John (my dad’s brother, whose death I wrote about in May of 2024) who was a large man in size, personality, laughter and love. Aunt Judy was small woman who always had a book in her hand in case the conversation got duller than the plot of her latest novel. She was extremely intelligent and had a great sense of humor, as anyone who married Uncle John would need. In my last conversation with her before dementia took away everything she learned over her lifetime, she highly recommended that I read the works of Edgar Cayce. Oh, how I wish we could’ve bantered knowing what I know now!
A week later, Thanksgiving morning, my Uncle Tom left this earth to be with his wife (Aunt Roz, who passed 12/14/10), his best friend (Uncle John), Aunt Judy, my dad, and too many more to list. There’s a huge party going on- on the other side that probably includes cribbage and gin martinis.
Uncle Tom was a special guy to those who knew him. He was gentle and kind but liked to get the first growl each day. We heard stories about shenanigans with beer bars as a teen, dynamite, sticky fingers, a falcon in the house, and that one time he took Ambien and accidentally shot himself in the leg while wearing Grinch pajama pants and didn’t know about it for hours. Seriously, he had been from the house to the barn and back, wondering about the blood on the kitchen floor!
We also knew that when our dad died and Mom brought all 8 of us, plus extras, to the farm, he showed us how to milk cows, drive tractors, birth calves, and whatever else interested us “town kids”. He loved each of his sister’s kids for who they were, and we knew it. When I grew up and got married, my husband was invited to hunt on the land. When our youngest daughter was of age and interested, she was included in hunting camp.
Just about every room in my house has some of Uncle Tom’s woodworking art. When I see it, I am reminded of him – how he always made me feel seen and welcome.
I know that my aunt and uncle are happy where they are, reunited with the people they loved, no longer beholden to their bodies while their brains deteriorated. I know they are nearby, and I can still talk to them, but there is an ache, too, for conversations we won’t have, hugs we can’t share, and no longer physically hearing their laughter (or growls).
I know, too, that death is not always physical. People grieve all sorts of deaths: relationships, careers, hopes, expectations, and how you imagined things in your mind. All of these can make the holidays bittersweet.
This is where the angels are giving us the space to grieve. Our sadness is equal to our love and comfort. It’s okay to feel sad.
They also want to remind us that in less than two weeks, the days start getting longer again. Light is coming. Not every day will feel so heavy and dark. And, as low as you feel in this moment is how high the pendulum will swing on its way back. It’s also okay to feel joy.
Humans are complex creatures with an array of thoughts, feelings, and emotions. None of us are 100% good and none of us are 100% bad. We are an eclectic mix of both, which makes each of us unique as snowflakes.
The angels want us to remember that it’s the same deal with our feelings. We are meant to feel anger, joy, and everything in between. None of them are bad. None are good. And none are righteous. Sometimes, when we are in the midst of grief, we think it makes us bad people to laugh or enjoy life. It doesn’t make us bad. It makes us human.
As we work our way into the New Year, give yourself permission to feel all your feelings. Pushing them down, running away from them, and numbing them aren’t a long term fix. You’ll be amazed how short the true feelings last (scientifically, about 90 seconds), and how much better you feel afterward. It is the gift you can give yourself and your long term health.
Peace!
