It was my mom's birthday. And no one remembered but me.
Everyone at home was happy: it was evening time and dinner was in the making. The four kids and my husband were busy together in the kitchen, cooking and laughing, joking and raucous. Inside, I felt sad. It wasn't even the first year after her death, but I still missed my mom. Quite a lot. I wished she could have seen us all together, the kids as adults now, and such lovely people.
Alone, I slipped out into the dusk and took a walk, into fading glory. Spectacular scenery soothed me, as it almost always does. But I wished my mom were with me and could see it too. As the last of golden sunlight suffused the landscape, I walked and prayed. Tears, unshed, welled up.
The cell phone rang: one of my daughters' was checking in. I fibbed, embarrassed to be so sad in the middle of all that happiness. I told her I was fine and would be home soon. But she wasn't fooled. As the oranges and pinks faded from the clear March sky and galaxies of stars first appeared, so did she.
Coming up the trail as I walked down, she greeted me, with understated love. Accompanying me, she knew. That I was sad and it was mom's birthday. We walked together and talked, about mom, and the exquisite soul she was. Darkness came and the moon rose. Together, we walked home, her presence a balm. Windows were bright: light lit within. Family waited, welcoming.
Birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries are tough: Grief appears when you least expect it, roaring back in, sometimes leaving tears in its wake, and a surplus of sadness. Just when you think you're "over it," or at least coping sort of well, back it is, intense as ever. Grief can feel like Lucy in the Charlie Brown cartoon, holding that football, promising not to move it, then, just when you trust it's staying steady, Wamo! Away it goes and back on your back you are. How frustrating.
In my case, I'd had the privilege of a mom who'd lived into her eighty's and was cared for at home by me. A lifetime of love had been offered and received, and she hadn't suffered in the dying. I was grateful. But I still missed her, every day. I just didn't want to admit it out loud. Her birthday ramped up sadness, punctuating embedded sorrow. And I tried to go it alone.
That's why grief can be isolating. No one wants to be Debbie Downer, always the griever and ever the party pooper. At least, that's what we can think or tell ourselves. The thing is, missing a loved one and feeling sad they're no longer here with us is normal. Ignoring or sublimating our mourning, is not. True, sometimes people we love don't understand. And they worry about us, wondering why we "still" grieve.
Long-lasting grief might be, as it was for me, a mom who lived long and well, with whom there were no relationship ruptures, and only good memories. It could be a precipitous early death of a parent, sibling, or friend, or a complicated relationship with a deceased spouse. We never stop missing those we love. It's normal to grieve at every developmental stage of our lives and to feel grief more intensely during holidays, special days, and major life events. A dear friend's mom died when she was a teen: decades later, she grieves the time she never had with her mom. She missed her mom at her own wedding and the weddings of her children. She missed her at the sudden death of her brother and during the illness of close friends.
With grief, the only way out is through: we need to grieve in our own way, for as long as it takes.
Some people move through grief differently or more quickly than others. When that happens, and we're left still feeling sad, it can seem like something is wrong with us. And when a holiday or special day happens along, we wonder what to do to get through, how to cope day-by-day, until the next one.
People who have grieved, or are still grieving, have offered advice on what worked to help them make it though special days and holidays. Take a read and see if any of this makes sense to you, for you.
- Holidays and special days are emotional yo-yos. During grief, feelings can be tumultuous, like waves in a stormy sea. Seasons of the years and special days used joyous events for you. Now, they're mixed, at best. During Christmas, for example, it looks from the outside like "everyone else" is happy all the time and only you are sad. (Turns out, they're not and you aren't the only one.) Discordant feelings are one of the toughest things about grieving during holidays and special days. Managing your own expectations helps here. If you know an emotional roller-coaster may/is likely to occur, you're forewarned and can plan accordingly. Mainly, it's dropping the harsh judgement/negative self talk. "Dang it," you might say to yourself, in response to self-criticism: "You're grieving. Give yourself a break. Do what you can and don't do what you can't. I'm amazed you're doing as well as you are! Good job!" If you don't already have a habit of positive self-talk, start now. You'll need it. Respect you: treat yourself (and others) warmly, with lovingkindness.
- Consider how you will "celebrate" birthdays, holidays, or anniversaries. In the same way you did when your loved one was alive? Or differently? There is no wrong answer here: some people like gathering family and friends and celebrating as they always have. Some think: "No way, I can't do that!" and schedule an out of town birthday, a completely different anniversary, or a modified Christmas or Hannukah. Figure out what you think you want to do, set that up, and modify if you change your mind. Can't handle the Christmas tree trimming this year? Don't. Making cookies? Save that for next year. Sending out the dreaded Christmas Card with news of your loved ones death? Wow, that sounds like a lot. Purchasing every relative and everyone you've ever met a Christmas present? Maybe not. Choose A, B, C, D, or None of the above. All of the above is not a good option. Ditto for Birthdays. Simplify. Once you figure out what to do and not do, leave space for a switcheroo: as with most things grief related, wait a minute or an hour, and you may feel differently. If so, it's ok to change your mind. If possible, try not to go it alone. A holiday or special day is tough to do on your own.
- Take note: different people in a family might have different answers to the above questions. That get's complicated. If the kids want to have Christmas as they always have and you need to get out of Dodge, that can be a challenge. See if you all can come up with a working plan for your little community. Diplomacy and compromise will be involved. Try, even if things get a little tense in negotiation, to keep the peace. Conflict ramps up grief (and grief ramps up conflict). Accommodate, if you can. Still, advocate for yourself: don't be a decision-making milk-toast.
- Fill up the energy reserves in advance. You'd be surprised (or not!) how empty a holiday can leave your strategic energy reserves. You can get pretty parched, really quickly. In the days and weeks leading up to the holiday or special day, ramp up your self-care strategies. Take a little extra time every day: Do a "want to" instead of a "must-do" or "should do." You'll need an energy reservoir to get through the day and the season.
- Add practical and spiritual support for several weeks before and after special occasion's like a death anniversary, birthday, or wedding anniversary. Seek out dear friends, close family members, a pastor or rabbi—people with whom you feel safe to be vulnerable. Talk about how you're doing and sleuth ideas for your own coping-with-the-holidays/special days plan. Schedule respite-time from your work life and/or family responsibilities. Plan a series of remembrances. Start early, so that all the activity and stress doesn't center on a single day. Exercise. Let tears flow. Or not, depending on what is most comfortable for you.
- Schedule a Novena of Loving Support. For nine days in advance of a death anniversary or special day of remembrance, schedule family or friends to add prayer or loving activities. You may even want to set up a family-wide prayer or remembrance time: this can be virtual, via zoom, or it can be everyone on their own, praying during the same timeframe. (My siblings did this by praying the rosary for nine days at the same time, in different places, for one of my important prayer intentions. It was a great comfort.) Grabbing a quick cup of coffee or finding time for a quiet dinner may be part of your novena. Attending daily mass or bible study might help, as would lighting a candle before a loved one’s picture each night. If these ideas don't work for you, figure out something that does.
- Relive the memories: Don't shy away from laughing, crying, and telling stories. Pretending that this year is no different than last, and not talking or remembering out loud will feel inauthentic. You'll all be screaming inside. Start with a funny story or poignant remembrance, and move on from there.
- Cut yourself a slice of slack. Don’t do too much, expect too much, or commit to too much. Build in scheduled flexibility. If you feel overwrought or overwhelmed, minimize stress by dropping select commitments. Tell people at the start: "That sounds good to me now, but I'm having a grieving time. I may or may not have the energy day of. I'll let you know then if I feel I can come." This gives you permission to modify plans if you feel overextend or headed for a grief global thermal emotional breakdown. For example: If you plan to attend a service together, then go to the cemetery, or go out to dinner and then to a family celebration, allow rest time between events or schedule for different days.
- Don't overcommit. Here's where the ounce of prevention works. Grief ramps up and coping evaporates when you do too much/overextend. So, don't. Plan in advance to be a steward of you, and of your energy reserves. Prioritize commitments. Do what's important to you and skip what's not. You'd be surprised (or not!): Even talking to people in a crowded setting can take way more from you than it ever did before. It can be downright exhausting. Also, out of the blue, in a social or work setting, someone can look at you with nicey/nicey eyes and say: "How ARE you?" And your tears flow. Suddenly, and with no warning. Sobbing can occur. In public. It happens, but is embarrassing. Having a quick exit strategy never hurts, nor does the old "Irish Goodbye," wherein you leave a party quietly, without making the goodbye rounds.
- Reach out/Be kind to someone else: True, we just spent several bullet points rehashing the "don't overcommit" advice. All of it is absolutely true. But. Most of us feel better if we can do something to help someone else feel better. Think about how that might work for you: can you purchase and wrap a present for St Vincent De Paul or another charity which delivers Christmas to people in need? Or send flowers or a plant to someone? How about, when you have a little energy, budgeting some for a phone call to someone who is lonely? When you're ready, consider how you might volunteer some time, somewhere worthy. Many people who grieve find that at some point during their grieving time, a volunteer opportunity can help them while they help others.
- Exercise. Eat well, nutritiously. Minimize alcohol and other substance use. Exercise is key: try to do something every day. Even a short walk outside can work wonders. A longer walk, bike ride, trip to the gym, doing yoga, or attending a Pilates or other exercise class (even virtually) is even better. (No one has energy during grief. It's tough to commit to exercise, but try. Put your sneakers on and go out that door. Getting fresh air really, really helps.) Limiting junk food and sweets is important: these reek havoc on your blood sugar, limit energy, and leave you with less energy to cope. Alcohol is a depressant. It's tough to metabolize, so the more you drink, the worse you feel, even days later. A glass of wine is fine, occasionally two. But more than that, routinely, can interrupt quality sleep and impede your grief recovery. Other substance use, such as THC, should be limited. High doses or routine use can lead to physiological problems or to addiction.
- Health Note re depression, anxiety, other mental health challenges: If you are stuck, struggling, overwhelmed, or depressed, please get the medication and/or therapeutic help you need. And if you're already on an anti-depressant or medication to allay anxiety or treat mental health issues, you may want to discuss with your health care provider in advance of the holidays whether your dose is adequate. If you aren't on a med already and worry you may be clinically depressed or severely anxious, request an evaluation from your doctor or provider. Holidays can worsen depression and other mental health challenges. Should meds be prescribed, do take them. Clinical depression and other mental health struggles, change your brain's neurochemical balance. Often medications are needed to address and remedy the imbalance. Therapy, too, can help. During the holidays, many people increase counseling or therapy appointments. (EFT or Emotionally Focused Therapy, along with other forms of therapy, can be very helpful in grief.)