Grieving Through the Holidays

I’ve done a little research on grief. One chapter of my master’s thesis is dedicated to a prominent historical woman’s unique grieving style and how it ostracized her from family and community. She serves as my personal cautionary tale that we should never judge another woman’s emotions or how she chooses to display them. As my oldest is fond of saying, “It’s a big world and there is room for everyone.” While we will all experience grief throughout our lives, how we grieve and who we grieve is different for everyone. There’s no prescription for getting through it and no universal timeline to measure our progress. I looked up the stages of grieving once and I’m pretty sure I experienced at least three simultaneously and none of them in any progressing order.

My grandfather died this past June. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer and he lived ten weeks after the diagnosis. No time was ever going to be enough time, but I am thankful for everyday of those ten weeks where we got to visit, to say good-bye, and finally just to sit in each other’s presence. There isn’t a day that I don’t miss my grandpa.  I think of things to tell him all the time and feel like the world is a little darker because he’s not in it. I feel like that on a random Tuesday. But now the holiday season is upon us and my grief feels magnified.

Holidays trigger us all.

As any good therapist will tell you, holidays can be a trigger for emotions. As women, we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to create magical holidays for our families, oftentimes when we aren’t feeling the magic ourselves. In my case, managing my grief will be a major component of making holiday plans. My family agreed not to celebrate the Fourth of July this year and I chose to skip my birthday by being out of town. I wasn’t ready to see the empty chair at the table, so we chose to do something different than the usual traditions. I don’t see this as avoidance or an attempt to cure my grief. Instead, I’m adding another layer to events that will become memories. I’m setting this year apart because everything is different now. I don’t want to throw out all the usual holiday happenings, but I am looking to find some holiday joy in new experiences.

Trying something new.

While I’ve discussed shaking up our typical December, I didn’t voice my desire to do things differently in November as well. As it turns out, the spouse had already invited family and friends over for Thanksgiving this year, continuing our tradition of hosting the holiday, an event my grandpa attended for many years. My husband does make the best turkey and stuffing, so I can’t say I blame him. But it forced me to come face to face with that empty chair whether I was ready or not. I felt like maybe I should come with a warning sign that day: Might be joyful, might cry in the closet.

I wish there were instructions for grief. I wish I were an expert with expert advice. Instead, we are all just muddling through. I want to completely reinvent the holidays this year but my family, who are also grieving, continue to thrive on schedules and traditions. I don’t want my grief to displace their own or my joy to become more important than theirs. At the same time, I don’t want anyone, myself included, to hide what we are feeling. Thus the muddling. I simply do not know how any of us will feel during this season. And so our greatest experience over the next few months might be learning to show each other big helpings of grace while we navigate both new experiences and firmly rooted family traditions. No matter what, we will be together and that’s not something I take for granted. Grief is universal, but grieving is different for everyone. Unconditional grace and love to others is one of the greatest gifts we can give or receive at any time of life.

I wish you love, light, and peace this holiday season and beyond.


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Kristina Haahr
Kristina is an El Dorado native who spent a lot of years trying to live "anywhere else.” She returned to El Dorado with husband Chuck (m. 1994) and their children Isaac (b. 1998) and Isabelle (b. 2003). A SAHM for 16 years, Kristina is now a wine rep for Demo Sales Inc., living her dream of a wine-saturated life. Kristina is a Geographer (BS K-State), Historian (MA WSU), and wrangler of two tiny dogs. She loves to travel, shop for shoes, and spend time with her teenagers, though she’s probably on her back porch saying “there’s no place like home.”

1 COMMENT

  1. Kristina–what a wonderful message for those, like you, who are grieving. It is a process and no one can tell you how to do it. This is a time of new beginnings and new traditions–not the same, but
    a way to comfort your heart. Have a blessed holiday, and it’s ok to leave the chair empty. You can also ask Jesus to have a place at the table in his chair. THanks for all you do and for being a great blogger.

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