A Deep Blue Christmas:
Dealing with Extreme Grief at the Holidays
For those who’ve recently lost someone
they deeply loved, this is the season of struggles. Here are some short tips on how to grieve when the world is trimming
trees and singing carols
While it’s hard
to quantify grief, to say ‘my loss trumps your loss,’ we all know there are
losses that sadden and there are losses that devastate. The first Christmas or Hanukkah
after a devastating loss—really any ‘first’ without the loved one—can be almost
unbearably painful. The holidays create idealized expectations that can’t
possibly be met. For those experiencing extreme grief, this time of year isn’t
just a let down; it’s a painful reminder of what you no longer have. I remember
being so angry that first Christmas because everyone was laughing and sharing
and I had to visit my child at the cemetery.
If you’re
suffering from extreme grief, here are some tips on how can you survive the
holidays.
Break down when you need to break down. (Yes,
even in the middle of the office Christmas party.) Grief doesn’t always
arrive at convenient times, but it should not be squelched. Find a bathroom or
go outside, but cry and scream if you have to.
Never fake it, “Never soldier through it. Only by “riding the waves” of grief,
even when makes others uncomfortable, can you ever begin to heal.”
If you feel like going to the holiday
event, go. If you don’t, don’t.
“Grief ebbs and flows, and often after a period of intense crying you will feel
okay for a while,” says Shechtman. “If you’re in an ‘ebb’ and think you might
enjoy Candlelight service, then go. Take grief as it comes.”
Forget seasonal “obligations.” Take care
of yourself first. “If you just can’t show up for a
holiday dinner, it’s okay,” says Shechtman. “If you can’t face shopping for your
grandchildren, don’t. They have too much stuff anyway! Those who care about you
will understand.”
When you need to, call someone on your “List
of 10.” Historically,
extreme loss was handled in the context of family, friends, church and
community. In our current culture families are scattered and fragmented and
communities and churches have been devalued. That’s why Shechtman suggests
cobbling together a list of 10 people you trust who agree to be there when you
need them—even at 2 am.
“After
Sharon died I would call the people on my list, one by one, to see if they were
up to my grief at the moment,” she says. “Grief requires comfort, a hard thing
to keep asking for.”
Find a way to honor your lost loved one
during the holidays. Hang a stocking for her. Prepare his favorite meal. Do something
meaningful to bring the person’s presence into the holidays.
“These rituals
help you process the loss rather than trying to squelch or deny it,” says
Shechtman.
Do something that brings you pleasure or
comfort. It doesn’t have to be holiday
related. Go for a snowy hike, or
visit a spa, or pet cats at the local animal shelter. The fact that you’re
grieving doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy life.
“This last point
is the hardest to believe, but it’s true,” notes Shechtman. “You’ll think, ‘I’ll never be happy
again.’ You will. Maybe not this
Christmas or Hanukkah. Maybe not next year. But eventually, you will.
“Making the
choice to grieve—and it’s one you must make again and again for the rest of
your life—expands your capacity for joy and brings new richness to
relationships,” she adds. “If nothing else sustains you this holiday season,
hold on to this. Life will never been the same, but it will be good again.”
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