Category Archives: Grief

Destinations, Grief, Thoughts and Notes

Better or just Different?–As Time Passes

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While visiting the picturesque island of Sanibel, I wandered into a small toy store. What started as a casual shopping trip became a profound and unforgettable encounter. Behind the register stood a small woman whose warmth and empathy touched me deeply. As we spoke, I shared my story of trauma and loss, tears streaming down my face. Her response was unexpected yet powerful. She didn’t promise that things would get better, just different.

Her words have echoed in my mind since, prompting me to reflect on my healing process. Can things ever truly get better after trauma and loss, or do they simply become different? This question has shaped my understanding of life since June 2020 as I navigate the twists and turns of an undeniably altered reality.

The Encounter in the Toy Store

It was in September 2020 that I decided I needed to get away. I wanted to go someplace I was familiar and comfortable with. Sanibel Island, Florida, kept coming to my mind. It had been at least 15 years since I had set foot on the island. My memories of it were very fond. With the help and encouragement of my family, I planned a semi-solo trip. I booked two weeks in a small condo on the beach. To stay on the beach in Sanibel for more than a quick visit was on my bucket list, so I had no problem saying yes to myself.

One day, I was out riding my bike and decided to stop at a strip on the main road. I remembered a great little boutique, and it was still there. After shopping, I wandered further in and found a small toy store. I needed to get something for the grandbaby. A small woman was sitting behind the cash register in the corner. She greeted me when I walked in and asked where I was from. Still in an ever-so-fragile state, I started crying and telling her my whole story.

To my surprise, she, too, had been through something quite similar. She recounted another lifetime when she was young, married, and had two adolescent children. A boy and a girl. Her story is not mine to share, but I could see the pain in her eyes. The same pain I felt. It was still there within her, and I could tell she had it buried very deep. She touched my shoulder and said the haunting words I will never forget; “You are still in it. You can’t see past this yet. Things will eventually look different.” And then she stood there and cried with me until the shop phone rang. In that instant, the connection was broken, and I said “goodbye” and left.

Reflecting on “Different” not “Better”

What has stayed with me is her use of the word “different” instead of many others she could have chosen. She could have said “better,” but she didn’t. The pain in her eyes told me she meant to say “different” and nothing else. So I left that day hoping that I might feel different but never whole, never fully healed, and never the same as before…just different.

She also added that things got so bad that she sold everything she owned and moved across the state, where she started a completely new life. How ironic that that might have been the seed planted in my head.

The Nature of Change

Since June 2020, I have driven to the West Coast and back twice by myself. I’ve spent months in Florida, Oregon, California, and Colorado, just to name a few of the most beautiful states I’ve ever seen. When I was caught up in life and tied to a job and family, I had always dreamed of a day just to go. Now was that day, and I took full advantage. Did it heal me? No, but it gave a sense of peace to my heart, knowing my life could be anything I choose to make it from today forward. I remind myself of that frequently.

As of today, his death anniversary has come and gone four times now. I’ve celebrated his birthday five times without him. We’ve had four imaginary anniversaries. We celebrated a new grandbaby who will soon be turning four as well. There are so many milestones, and yet sometimes it seems like yesterday. Just the other day my cousin and I talked about our lives five years ago, and we both agreed that it was another lifetime ago. So many changes in just a short time. Not all changes were for the better, and some were definitely hard. But without them, we wouldn’t all be where we are today.

Is change healing? I don’t have an answer to that. What I have discovered though, is that I am in control of most of the change that happens in my life. We all are; we don’t see it sometimes. We get lost in the chaos of daily life.

I used just to let life go by. Not anymore. Everyone used to say, “Get used to the new normal.” There is nothing normal in the aftermath of losing a loved one. Incidentally, here’s a tip; don’t say that to someone who is grieving.

REFLECTIONS

So, in reflection on “Are things better or just different?” I have to say both. If you’ve read anything I’ve written before, you know I don’t fully subscribe to the stages of grief. Personally, I feel like they are just a made-up roadmap to help us all prepare for unexpected emotions surrounding grief, but I won’t get into that here. Grief has so many layers, as does trauma.

But at the end of the day, things are different now than they were. Some good, some bad, but mostly just “different.” My family has gotten older, I’ve moved several times, accomplished some things I’ve always wanted to do, and seen places I always dreamed of. Some as a direct result of loss, but some not, and each day I wake up, I still have the ritual of looking outside and seeing possibility. When I go to bed at night, I meditate on what I am thankful I still have in my life.

Thanks for reading. –xxooC

sanibel island, florida better or just different
Grief, Thoughts and Notes

A Realization of Widowhood: Navigating the Reality of Being Single

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Realization of Widowhood…Setting IN

I. Am. Single. Yes, that’s what I said. It’s a hard realization of widowhood. It really doesn’t matter how long you were married before, the law only recognizes “until death do you part.” So now, whether you want to be or not, like it or not, you are single!

It’s hard to take in. It’s hard to process. But I have to, don’t I? Long before I was even ready to normalize anything, I was hit with the word “single.” And there you have it, folks, my life summed up in one single word for the government and any other authoritative entity that matters: “single.” The realization of widowhood.

I bring this up because I’ve confronted it multiple times in the last few weeks. For those of you new to my game, I’ve been a widow for a little over four years now, so nothing really surprises me. However, this did—quite a bit, actually.

I’ve spent most of my adult life being a wife. Not all at once, I do admit, but this last time was the one that counted, and I am counting a little over 23 years that I’ve been called Mrs…..

Being forced to be counted as single is a shock at first. Then it tries to settle in, only to be replaced by horror that I can no longer be called anything BUT “single” in the eyes of the law and government. I think there needs to be a change in this somewhere, but I can’t comprehend that right now.

The Weight of the Word “Single”

When you first hear it, it feels like a blow. “Single” seems to erase all the shared memories, the love, and the life built together. It feels reductive, minimizing years of companionship to a mere label. Adjusting to this new reality is daunting. The transition from being part of a “we” to just “me” is not only emotionally taxing but also socially and legally challenging.

Society’s Lens on Widowhood

Society often views widowhood through a sympathetic lens, but rarely does it understand the internal battle that comes with it. The term “single” doesn’t capture the complexity of the loss, the journey through grief, and the slow rebuilding of one’s life. Instead, it throws us into a category that feels foreign and uncomfortable.

The Journey of Acceptance

Coming to terms with this new status takes time. It’s a journey of acceptance, filled with moments of denial, anger, and eventually, understanding. Recognizing oneself as single after a significant loss is an essential step in healing. It doesn’t mean forgetting the past or diminishing the love that was shared. Instead, it’s about acknowledging the present and finding a path forward.

Navigating the New Normal

I really hate the term “the new normal.” I heard it a lot in the early days of widowhood, and every reminder of your single status feels like a fresh wound. From legal documents to social events, the constant labeling can be overwhelming. However, over time, these reminders can transform into affirmations of resilience and strength. They can become markers of progress, signifying the ability to move forward while still cherishing the past.

Finding Strength in Community

For those navigating similar paths, finding a community of support can make a significant difference. Sharing experiences, challenges, and victories with others who understand can provide comfort and encouragement. It’s through these connections that we can find solace and strength, knowing we are not alone in our journey.

Conclusion: Embracing the Future

Widowhood reshapes our identity in profound ways. Accepting the term “single” is part of this transformation. While it may never fully capture the depth of our experiences, it does signify a new chapter. Embracing this chapter means honoring the past while stepping into the future with hope and resilience. This may seem like a lot at first and if it is, be patient, you’ll get there. Remember: you are more than a label. You are a testament to enduring love and unyielding strength.

Thanks for reading. I love you all –xxooC

Destinations, Grief, On The Road

A Grief Journey Continued: Chasing Clarity

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The Anniversary of the Beginning

I must confess, my last post about facing the fourth anniversary of the start of my grief journey was a bit of a joke to me and not the haha kind. Although I wrote and rewrote it several times, no words seemed to convey what I was experiencing. I couldn’t quite wrap my thoughts around it. In an effort to just get something out, I pushed through the pain.

Yes, the time dilation was real. I found myself obsessing over photos again. With vivid detail, I could remember everything about a particular moment in time. However, as I kept getting pulled back into moments that happened five, seven, ten years, and more, living in the present seemed like the dream I would eventually wake up from. Only to be met in the present with the inevitable shock wave of grief and trauma over and over.

Believe it or not, that’s how the mind of a surviving spouse works, or at least mine does. Here’s the disclaimer: everyone grieves differently, and everyone processes trauma differently. Your experiences and grief journey may be completely different, and that is okay. Start your own blog. It’s very therapeutic. Click here for some inspiration. You can thank me later.

For reasons unknown, this year was particularly hard. I had the best support, and I’m becoming comfortable in this new life I’ve created. Yet, there is still this intense feeling of loss to contend with. I suppose it’s because the loss was sudden and unforeseen. It was thrust upon me, and I simply had to just deal with it and all of its messiness. Messiness like having to renew my truck plates and both of our names are still listed.

Embracing Clarity in Grief

Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about a couple of widows I met while traveling in Florida early on. Each told me their story of losing their husband. Both were sudden, like me, and both were quite similar, although they were hundreds of miles apart. Each one talked about how they got to a point where they just couldn’t go on in the environment they were in. So, they packed up what little they wanted to keep and moved. One to another part of the state and one from a completely different state. Far enough away to start a whole, brand new life. And with that, they seemed content, like they had no regrets at all.

I also find it interesting that one is living her life alone, completely content in her chosen isolation, while the other started a new career and remarried. They did what was best for their survival. That is exactly how I’m feeling; I have known it for some time. I must go. I must go to a place he and I weren’t and start a new life. I’ve done pretty well at reinventing myself; now I have to take it a little further and go and not look back.

The Vulnerability of Moving On

This year’s anniversary came with so many revelations. In grief, clarity will come. I have to caution you, though, and this is another article I plan to write, be very wary in the first few years. Pay particular attention to who you trust, and constantly doubt everyone’s motives. Intense grief makes one vulnerable. I had people take advantage of me in so many different ways in the first few years of my grief journey. They included friends, family, and trusted individuals. Those with a dishonest heart will see an opportunity, and you won’t know what’s coming because of the cloud of grief.

Solace by The Lake

So there it is. Another year has passed. I can’t say I have much to show for it except for the clarity and maybe a better grip on my life. I know more of what I want, don’t want, and will tolerate. Oh, the book—yeah, then there is that. Incidentally, I’m learning the business of promotion and advertising. I haven’t made a million dollars yet.

As for my anniversary, I spent my day on the beach, one of the best places on earth. Some of the following day was spent there too. Then, on Sunday, I watched one of the most amazing sunrises. It always brings me peace, and this year was no different.

Enjoy the photos 🙂

Thanks for reading. –xxooC

me at the dunes in indiana a grief journey
sunrise at the dunes a grief journey
sunrise at the dunes
a dune on the beach
the dunes beach facing chicago
the beach at the dunes a grief journey
Grief, Thoughts and Notes

Twenty-one Days: Cherishing Moments and Memories

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21 DAY REWIND

June 14th, 2020 was a Sunday. I will be stuck in this moment for the rest of my life whether I want to or not. Strange how trauma does that to the mind. As this anniversary is rapidly approaching, so goes my train of thought into a rewind. My brain seems to be repeating roughly the last twenty-one days every year now, as I will explain in greater detail. I started writing about this subject over a week ago. I had this great article ready to go, and then I reread it and realized how sanitized it was. It barely glossed over what I am feeling. Somehow, for some reason, as reality starts to set in more and more, the gut punches are coming more frequently. This. is. reality.

As I said, every year at this time has proven to be a rewind. Ever since the first anniversary in 2021, I have found myself instinctively counting down roughly the last twenty-one days. Week by week, day by day, moment by moment. All are crystal clear. I obsessively look at the calendar, too. I really don’t need to anymore; somehow, I just know, but I still look.

TWENTY-ONE DAYS OF LIFE

The impact of these memories extends beyond my own experience, affecting our daughter, her husband, and our grandsons. They, too, carry the weight of the bittersweet remembrances, feeling the absence of a beloved husband, father, and grandfather. The significance of these twenty-one days ripples through our family, intertwining our lives with a shared sense of joy, love, and loss. Our daughter was married exactly eight days before. Her last memories are of him walking her down to her future husband and all of us at their house celebrating. We drove home on Sunday.

We decided to rip up the carpet in the living room, and finally, after visiting what I think was every home store in the BloNo area, we picked out a hardwood. I was supposed to order it on Monday. Thursday, we did go to the nursery, which had been on the to-do list for a while. He picked out a beautiful fire maple tree for the front yard. It was to replace the existing maple, which was infested with spider mites. He didn’t live to see it planted the following Wednesday morning. These days will hold significance in my heart as they are so vivid, monumental, and emotionally charged. They mark the very last moments, the very last days, and the very last memories I have of my husband on this earth.

new fire maple in front yard
old maple in front yard

THE IMPORTANCE OF THESE DAYS

We were a few months into quarantine. Living in a cul-de-sac, the neighborhood had started meeting up in the street for drinks, music, and social interaction. The importance of the last twenty-one days lies in their inexplicable significance. Things were decisively different then. This was a different time. I remember these days so clearly as they were the last moments spent with my husband. While the reason behind the specific number of days when this rewind starts remains a mystery to me, this time and memories have imprinted themselves on my mind, and the intensity of these memories serves as a reminder of the deep impact they’ve had on not just my life but every life he touched. Those moments will stay with me forever.

So much happened in those last few weeks. Or again, maybe it’s just because I remember them so clearly. Sunsets were his thing. He loved them so much in our new house. He was always home for the good ones. The best, and his last was on the eighth. The bittersweet nature of these memories encapsulates a mix of joy and sorrow, each intertwined with the other.

sunset in normal, illinois twenty-one days
THE IMPACT OF THESE MEMORIES

I navigate a complex tapestry of emotions as I reflect on these twenty-one days. Cherishing and celebrating the love and memories, while acknowledging the pain of loss, holds a profound importance. As I also navigate the emotions tied to those twenty-one days each year and the years to come, I am reminded of the huge space my husband filled and now the huge hole that is left. It’s a time to honor the love we shared, as well as the lasting imprint my husband left on our hearts. While the weight of loss may linger, I must also find the strength to let it go, and I’m seeing this more clearly now than ever.

While the trauma will always be with me, I’m seeing I have to go on without him. As each year and each milestone keeps passing me by, I keep thinking it will get easier, but it doesn’t. I just learn something new about myself and figure out new ways to cope. But make no mistake, it never gets easier.

I rarely speak for my late husband, although I feel like I know him better than anyone. In these moments, I try to imagine what he would say to me. Above all, he was my cheerleader and always wanted to see me happy, so I let my heart be my guide. Somehow I always know he would approve.

Thanks for reading. I love you all. –xxooC

just me
Grief, Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

The Last Goodbye: A Journey Towards Healing and Closure

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The Ups and Downs of a Grief Journey

I was in the process of writing a different article, one about how to live a life to be proud of, not one about saying goodbye. But, as with any grief journey, there are good days and bad and I’ll eventually get to that article, just not today. Today wasn’t the worst, but it could have been a better one. I’ve had more than a few not-so-great days this week. Because my blog just turned two, and June will be four years since my husband’s departure, I think it’s all made me a little sad, especially in the mornings when I try to write. 

I thought I had a revelation this morning, but I was mistaken. I’ll get to that in a minute. I presumably thought I had missed out on a milestone for healing. One I thought, if I could put it behind me, it would definitely help me move on mentally and emotionally. So, after googling some ways in which to do this, and in the midst of a severe panic attack, I realized, to my complete surprise, that I had, in fact, already said goodbye. Let me explain.

colorado sky and mountains last goodbye

The Search for Closure

I touched on this whole story once before in another article. This morning’s revelation was that I never actually got to say goodbye. Therefore, doing so now would allow me the closure to move forward. Once I googled the best ways to do this, according to other therapy sites, I came across a forum response. I’m sorry if I don’t credit the person who said this. I can’t even remember what forum it was, but the guy said, “You did say goodbye. Just remember all of the times you said goodbye before. You didn’t know if you would see each other again then.” This hit me like a ton of bricks.

Why Goodbyes Matter

Early in our marriage, we had a mutual friend lose his wife suddenly to a car accident on her way home from work. This incident shook the very foundation of our relationship in that we never wanted to part or leave each other without saying, “I love you.” After she died, we did say our last goodbyes every day and every night for many, many years. Everytime not knowing if it truly would be the last. Then it was.

The last time I saw my husband was the night before. It was just after midnight, and I woke up in my recliner next to his. He was awake and still watching TV. I said I was going to bed, and he replied, “Okay, goodnight.” Before I left the room, I kissed him purposefully, as I did every night before, and we both said, “I love you.” We ended exactly the way we both wanted, with love in our hearts and goodbye on our lips.

So this evening, I have a little more peace and, dare I say, maybe even some closure. Now, I have to figure out what to do with it. My point to this story is: Don’t take for granted that when you say goodbye to someone, it very well could be the last time you get to say it. Be okay with how you leave people who matter. 

Thanks for reading– xxooC

Grief, Thoughts and Notes

Life After Loss: Navigating the Challenges of Grief

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Moving Into Another Year

This year felt a little different going in. I don’t know why. As they say, the fog is lifting, and I’m beginning to see things clearer in my new life after loss. The one day I’ve been dreading quickly approached. As those closest to us know, Eric and I were married on Friday the 13th in 1998. He chose this day. It was the implication of it all. He loved the drama of being different and seeing others’ reactions. I loved that about him. Even so, the number 13 proved to be a good number for us in many ways.

The first year, in 2021, I took myself on a solo trip to the beach. The second year, I also spent away, visiting with friends. Last year was terrible. I went back to work full-time. Coupled with the day before a major holiday and being in retail were a recipe for disaster. I didn’t have the option not to work, and it turned out to be a horrible day, and I nearly lost my mind. So, this year, I decided not to work and do nothing at all or at least to keep my options open.

Later in the day, I did spend time with my daughter and grandsons, which brought me immense joy. I recently published coloring books for them and we colored for hours. (Click the link if you’d like to take a look at one.) Whereas I have only heard of art therapy for adults, this was my first time experiencing it. Not only was it enjoyable, but I also experienced meaningful mindfulness once I was able to let go of time. So, for those of you who have laughed at adult coloring being “art therapy” as I once did, I challenge you to revisit your thought process and give it a try. Indeed it was an enlightening event.

coloring at the table life after loss

An Honest Confession

Meanwhile, I started therapy again (click here to read about my prior therapy experiences for grief and PTSD) and had my first **EMDR (which means Eye Movement Desensitisation Reprocessing) sessions the week prior, so I knew I was fragile. I did a lot of crying and a lot of talking out loud. None of it seemed to soothe me, though. Here I am, just short of four years into my grief journey, and my heart remains broken into a million tiny pieces. Although I mask it well. The only thing more apparent to me now is that I’m honestly on my own.

Conversation itself is much more about comforting others than it is about myself. It was odd at first, being labeled “single” after decades of marriage. All at once, I couldn’t say “my husband” anymore. Now it’s “my late husband” so as not to confuse people and inadvertently make them uncomfortable. Either way, as much as my heart longs for him, I am alone now. No one will ever understand me or get me as he did. I know this, and somehow, I’ve come to accept it. I have meaningful relationships and some fulfill me in ways my marriage never did.

Dating in this void is exceptionally challenging. “Single” now means I’m in my mid-50s, older, yes, wiser, no. Certainly, it all made me want to throw my hands up and say I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. Life after loss has left me traumatized and unstable. I now have to find my way to some kind of life. Before, I wasn’t looking long-term because, honestly, I didn’t think I would make it this long, yet here I am. So, these days, I am starting to think ahead. What does life look like for me in 3-5 years instead of just tomorrow?

What Lies Ahead in this Life After Loss

I started this blog as a self-help, primarily for myself and then for my readers. Undoubtedly, opening up about anything personal was scary as hell but I’ve also found it healing. Now, I’m still determining the direction to go with everything in my life. Every day is still challenging to face. Every day never promises anything. The reality is, most days, I am hopeful, although there are certainly days I am not. Those days I just move through the motions and the emotions. Even when I was traveling, moving forward sometimes was difficult, but it still had to be done.

My last few posts have been self-help articles about things I have an interest in as well as things I’m learning from writing my upcoming book. I hope you’ll stick with me through it all. Thanks for reading and all of your positive feedback. I love you all. –xxooC

**If you would like more info on EMDR you can click here to read more from the EMDR International Association. There, you will find answers to any questions about what it is, how it’s administered, and the benefits of therapy.

sand waves on the beach life after loss
Grief, Thoughts and Notes

Reflections of the New Year: Navigating Uncharted Waters

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The New Year

Welcome to the New Year. I hate social media, yet we live there, don’t we? Today I was reminded of a New Year past, from 2019—such a bittersweet memory with my husband. Nothing could touch us. We were on top of the world. Both of us were in a new position and a new house. We had a new community, and new friends with nothing but the world in front of us. Then, just as quickly as it came, it ended.

As with every new year, we envision something different. Some change that awaits us on the new horizon. I still have these same thoughts. Just as with all the New Year’s past, I too had hopes and dreams. Some of them may materialize, and others may dissipate into the wind. Expectations just boil down to what we are willing to work for and accept.

What Is The NOW?

My life is dictated. I have taken on a quest of responsibility. It is entirely by choice, yet it does dictate what I do. I am at peace with this decision, however often, I look to the future and what can be now and what can be.

As I continue into uncharted waters and things I had no idea I would encounter, I am reminded that the fog is lifting. It’s been 3 and a half years now. In this widows’ world I have been a victim of the confusion and self-doubt, and questioning everything is beginning to lift above my head. Many things are becoming more apparent to me. I dismissed so many things earlier or I did not know about what was happening around me. To that, I say, “Just wait.”…I have arrived. There will be a reckoning.

I see it. I see you. The situations I have put myself in and the people I have surrounded myself with have become abundantly clear that not all have been in my best self-interest. Rest assured, these, too, shall pass. Everyone shows their true colors eventually. The universe has left me here for a reason. I am still determining that reason, but I know I still have jobs to do before I am free.

What Will BECOME?

This year, I have not made resolutions or achievements I hope to accomplish. My thoughts remain more modest in that I want to make a difference. I want to make every person’s life I encounter better. The goal is to be a better person and ease someone’s suffering. I want to make it through the year. Sometimes, we get defeated. I’ve learned that’s okay. That is the moment we need to feel gratitude because there is someone else in this country and in this world who has less than we have. Whether it be the roof over our heads, the food in our stomachs, or knowing our loved ones are safe today, we are privileged if you identify with this.

So, I leave you with this: I don’t have a lot of hope for 2024, although it’s started well for me. Every day is a struggle. I know full well it is for some. Cherish what you have and think, pray for those that have not. We are just one paycheck away.

May you all have a blessed 2024. See you on the flip side. Thanks for reading —xxooC

letter tiles beside mandarins
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Grief, Thoughts and Notes

So This Was Christmas: Finding Peace Amidst Grief

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Christmas’s Past

I don’t know when I started to dislike Christmas. Somewhere around the time that being a small business owner of a tattoo/piercing studio was not profitable from October to Christmas became a reality. Birthdays and tax season were a big deal, but holidays just became a burden. There always seemed to be too little time to enjoy anything. Between shuffling around from family to family, shopping on a budget, and spending energy trying to be festive, my late husband and I just gave up somewhere. As our daughter got older, we stopped putting the tree up. We had long stopped giving each other gifts. So this was Christmas.

Then, the first grandson was born. There was so much excitement as we were in different places in our lives than when we owned the shop. We were making more money than ever and couldn’t wait to spend it on this precious, new blessing. We had just started to look forward to the holidays again. The unthinkable happened in the summer of 2020, just before the second grandson was born. All of the excitement and anticipation of what would be was just sucked right out the window for me. It’s been tough to even think of celebrating anything without him.

Christmas Present

As the boys get older, their memory of him is fading. The oldest tells the youngest about him. But as time puts distance between them, there are no more memories to recount. The existing memories are fading. Today, I watched two excited little boys open gifts on Christmas morning. It was a good Christmas morning. After all the excitement has worn off, I’m left with a deep sadness I can’t quite describe.

Looking to the future after a devastating loss continues to remain challenging. Everything I read at the beginning of this journey has proven untrue. The fog was supposed to lift after a couple of years. It’s just beginning to. I can feel it because realization is starting to set in. Getting through the holidays may never get any better. They will never be what I had hoped and expected just four years ago, or even just a year ago.

The Future

So next year will be different. I’ve decided to start a new holiday tradition. On Christmas Day, I am heading to a beach. Any beach will do. It could be a different beach every year. I don’t know yet. What I do know is that time keeps moving whether we want it to or not. Today, I mourn what would have been but never will be. This space I am in now is not a place or time I ever could have imagined for myself. It’s good, don’t get me wrong. It’s just not what I ever expected my life to be.

I find comfort in having my loved ones close to me. I cannot express how grateful I am for their support during the difficult times and unwelcome phases of my life. They were there for me with laughter, companionship, comfort, and acceptance. As we approach the end of the holiday season, whether you celebrate or not, I wish everyone peace, light, and love. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have these things, and I am grateful for what I have. With 2024 approaching, I am confident it will be my year.

Thanks for reading. –xxooC

two gray and beige gift boxes beside gray metal lantern so this was christmas
Photo by PhotoMIX Company on Pexels.com
Grief, Thoughts and Notes

Coping with Grief: Ideas for surviving this Holiday Season

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Coping with Grief + Holidays=HARD

The holiday season can be a challenging time of year for anyone who has lost a loved one. Whether due to a recent loss or one that occurred years ago, coping with grief during the holidays can bring up a range of emotions that can be difficult to navigate. I know it’s hard. Even though your loved one isn’t here, you still are. Here, we’ll explore some ideas for coping with grief during the holiday season. Here you’ll find ways to honor your loved one and take care of yourself.

Whether by creating new traditions or seeking support from loved ones, there are many ways to find comfort and peace during the holidays, even in the midst of grief. So, let’s dive in and discover some helpful tips for making it through the holiday season after losing a loved one.

Bring out Your Creativity

As I said, the holiday season can be challenging. But there are many ways to cope and find comfort and support. One way to honor your loved one is to create a unique ornament or decoration. One that represents them and place it on the tree or display it in your home. Clear glass or plastic ornaments that open can be found at craft stores. These are perfect for small mementos like fur, jewelry, or photos.

Honor and Remembrance

Lighting a candle in memory of your loved one during holiday gatherings or anytime you just want is a wonderful way to pay tribute. I light one often at night in remembrance of the loved ones I’ve lost. Another way to honor their memory is to create a memory box filled with items that remind you of them. Place it with decorations or in a special place as you share memories about them.

Take Some Time for YOU

Taking care of yourself during this time is essential. Make sure to get plenty of rest, eat well, and engage in activities that bring you joy. I know sleep is hard sometimes, especially when I have much on my mind. I read with a low light and burn some incense to wind down. The holidays may seem like a great time to throw all self-discipline regarding food out the window; however, now is the time to exert that discipline. You’ll feel better when the holidays are over, and exacerbating any health issues will be averted. Finally, do little things for yourself. A hot cup of tea or a little “me” time is a quiet, no-expense luxury.

GIVE BACK

Finally, consider volunteering, attending a support group, or seeking professional help if needed. Volunteering can be a great way to find gratitude and give back. A support group is helpful if you are comforted by being around people. Some are, some not, so don’t push yourself. There is a better time to get out of your comfort zone. Professional help can be a wonderful support. Contact your doctor for a referral if you need help finding a therapist.

Remember that it’s okay to feel a range of emotions and to take things slow. By caring for yourself and finding ways to honor your loved one, you can make it through the holiday season with peace and comfort.

Thanks for reading and I wish everyone not only a peaceful holiday season but I also wish you to find some joy. I love you all –xxooC

four pine cones on top of brown wooden surface coping with grief
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