The Holidays in Grief: Another Secondary Loss

It’s taken me some time to get this blog post up, partly because this time of year, in general, is still hard to process. I’ve honestly thought about taking an actual break from it all; from writing my blog, from social media in general, from publicly transcribing this very real journey I’m on. The loss of Matt, the roller coasters of emotions, my journey into dating. Is it too much? Is it too heavy? For me. For my readers. For my family and friends who have, to some degree, had to relive this devastation and walk alongside me in the aftermath.

Ironically, this morning, I received an email from one of my favorite grief accounts, “What’s Your Grief.” And it hit me. Another reminder of my why; in a sea of insta-reality, silver linings, and a culture of toxic positivity, it is vital for those who are grieving, who feel like their lives are less-than or “not right,” to have access to meaningful, real content. To feel seen and heard in a society that repels emotional pain. Grief is heavy and it is guaranteed. 

If you love, you will grieve. Yes, even during the holidays.

And yet, we are taught to try and look at the bright side. We are offered “at leasts” and “everything happens for a reason” jargon. We fear grief. I get it. It hurts; it isn’t pleasant. And who wants to feel pain?  Who wants to think about loss? The reality is, even when you say “I can’t even imagine…” you probably can; and it’s terrifying. No one wants to see the sad ending of the movie. No one wants to live that sad ending. 

But if we don’t acknowledge the complexity that comes along with grief, how do we move forward? How do we find examples of how we can walk with grief AND still lead a meaningful life?  How do we hold space for a very real part of the human experience when it feels more taboo than common? So, here I am. Back with another blog post. Still on social media (though I may still take a small break). And today, I’m talking about another secondary loss– the Holidays.

In the email I received from What’s Your Grief, which actually triggered me to just head to the keyboard and get the damn thing done, they actually identify the Holidays as a secondary loss. All of a sudden my brain was like “YES!”  

The Holidays ARE a secondary loss. 

What does that mean? It means that, for many grievers, holidays feel very different; they look different. The feelings that once existed around the holidays may feel out of reach, or in my case, more complicated and complex. This season used to bring me so much joy; December was my favorite month. Don’t forget to wish me happy birthday on 12/31 (insert wink emoji). Now, I have to coach myself through the fear of December. I have to hold space for painful memories and lost futures. I simultaneously love the spirit of the season, and hate that so much of that is marred with hospital memories and a prevalent gap at the dinner table on Christmas Eve. I feel both more connected and so far away from Matt all at the same time. 

I feel the loss for Bryson, never having spent a Christmas with his dad. I mourn for Matt, that he was robbed of spending his favorite holiday with his son; that he never experienced the bright eyes of wonder on Christmas morning.  We’ll never get to “Santa” together. Our holiday cards look different than most; and while I try to give Bryson all the “holiday experiences” so many little ones have, I don’t fill that gap. I know Bryson is starting to connect the dots, and that is hard to watch. His losses are starting to manifest more blatantly, now that he’s getting older. And all I can do is be here for him through it all.

As for me, while most may miss Matt for his crazy antics, his loud laughter that echoed through dining rooms up and down the east coast during the holidays, I miss Christmas morning the most. 

Matt was notorious for making me a number of stockings that he would personally design with puff paint that would dry up over the course of the year, thus having to buy more puff paint. He would fill my hand-crafted stocking with gifts when I fell asleep on Christmas Eve. Not the best secret keeper, he held a concerning level of joy for always surprising me on Christmas morning. I miss that. I miss our failed attempts at making waffles and I even miss the incessant complaints about traffic when we did choose to travel over the holidays. And while I’m appreciative of all the wonderful memories, of the hilarious and slightly off-beat moments, it will never be the same. And as I consider moving forward, as I venture into dating again, I wonder how that will impact our holidays. Will potential chapter two’s  be accepting of how complicated this time of year is? Will they be open to keeping up with my holiday traditions I am unwilling to change? Is it crazy to even be thinking about this right now? 

And this is just me. There are so many more ways the loss of the holiday season with someone special, manifests.

The holidays may be celebrated differently, or not at all. I’ve seen this a lot with those who have lost parents, grandparents, and the keepers of holiday traditions. Some may feel disconnected from their faith. Others may feel disconnected from the living people with whom they used to holiday with. Perhaps you can’t listen to holiday music or watch certain movies. The list goes on. Feel free to share some of the ways your holidays are different now, in the presence of grief.

Originally, I planned on writing a blog on how to get through it. And I appreciate all those who contributed. Most were along the same lines: 

• remembering the better times. 
• Giving grace and space to choose how and with whom you “celebrate.” 
• Taking it one day, and one moment at a time. 
• Holding space for grief. 
• Starting new traditions that include your loved ones’ memories. 

All of these are wonderful and valid. And I am so appreciative. Then, I had one person email me his thoughts on the holidays and I thought, people need to hear this. All of it. Another young widower; another story of a young, special person stolen too soon. And I just have to share. So, I’m going to leave you with another holiday grief story because I know that my experience is just one. And it is so, so important to provide more perspective; more space for those who want to share, to share. I am beyond grateful. I have changed out names to maintain a level of anonymity.

Secondary Loss during the Holidays– A widowers perspective

“Personally, I have never really been big into the holiday season as a functioning, self-sufficient adult. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the holidays in general, but I feel like I was never really into all the pressure that came with them – Christmas primarily.  I feel like the military definitely had a hand in that for me. Living in Florida and then Hawaii made it difficult to celebrate all of the holidays with my family, and I was always the one who would do the traveling, so I basically had to pick and choose depending on what my family was actually planning.  And then – as I just realized a few weeks ago – all of my previous 4 deployments covered the major holidays in the fall/winter, so I got pretty used to not being there.  My family, however, did NOT get used to it, and I definitely realize it’s a lot harder for them than it is for me.

When it comes to the “pressure” of the holidays, even before Sarah, I always sensed this pressure of  “when are you gonna bring someone home to meet the family, Johnny?” For reference, my brother and his wife have been together for more than 10 years and now have two kids; that became the standard in our Italian family. There was also the pressure to always buy the perfect gifts and figure out how to transport them halfway around the world. Being deployed and not having to worry about those things was a lot less stressful. Let’s be clear. I love my family, and I love bringing everyone together, but it has definitely felt like my mindset has never been fully understood, some of that is probably my fault for not working to help everyone understand.

So when Sarah came around, that changed. Her family dominated Thanksgiving like it was the one holiday they prepare for all year, and I thoroughly enjoyed (and still do enjoy) hanging with them for it. And while Sarah was not super-enthused about a loud Italian Christmas every year, she was a LOT better at it than I was. She rocked the gift scene like it was her job, prepped charcuterie, even baked a few desserts, and then relished the time she spent with my Gram and niece. Meanwhile, I no longer had to answer questions about when I was gonna “settle down.” So, we got through the insanity together and even had a tad bit of fun! 

You are probably very familiar with and/or can guess what it’s been like the past two years of holidays since Sarah has been gone. Sarah’s family Thanksgiving still lives on as infamous, and it hasn’t skipped a beat. We reminisce, but it’s all happy reminiscing and doesn’t usually get somber. 

And then, there is Christmas with my loud-ass Italian family now. My family – for some reason – has this tendency to get emotional while remaining loud and always trying to match each other’s volume. Maybe it’s the combination of the booze and the holiday, the fact that it’s just our immediate family now, my parents getting older, etc. I’m a pretty social person, but it’s been kind of overwhelming.

The first year was just weird. It seemed like no one really knew how to act around me. Everyone had that sad-looking “how are you doing?” face, and I just wanted to relax, chill out with a nice bourbon, and enjoy everyone’s company. To be fair, I had no idea how I would feel or react to the family gathering, so I can’t really blame anyone for how they acted or didn’t act. It was totally unchartered territory, and it absolutely felt that way. So, I really just tried not to overreact to anything or get over-emotional (is that a thing?), and I survived…barely.

Last year was better, but I wouldn’t say I thrived by any means. Still the seemingly over-the-top Italian family with too many personalities in one room, who started drinking way too early and stayed up way too late. It’s like they thrive in chaos, and all I wanted to do was find somewhere I could actually hear myself think. But then I’d feel guilty that I wasn’t “celebrating” with everyone else. And then I’d start to feel like I wasn’t living up to Sarah’s ability (or our collective ability) to do Christmas right, and that sucked!

So, after last year, I actually told myself (and my in-laws)  that I was going on a vacation over Christmas this year, but had no idea how to break it to my side of the family. They’d be devastated – especially my niece, who has become best buds with my dog. Little did I know, I’d be on one of those involuntary vacations in Africa, and my pup would be living the good life with his grandparents. Not exactly what I was thinking of, but, honestly, I’m oddly okay with it…again. It actually feels more normal (and slightly relaxing) to me than anything else over the holidays. Is that crazy?!? At least there won’t be any “are you seeing anyone yet” questions this year!”

To my friend who so openly wrote this, you need to start your own blog. Thank you for sharing your perspective, as I know SO MANY others who echo the same sentiments.

This blog post turned out way different than I planned. But, I hope it resonated. I want to leave you all with this. Whatever the holidays mean for you, however you choose to show up, know that it’s exactly the way you should. You may be able to find more joy this season. Hold onto that, and don’t let it get away. It’s OK to feel happy, to feel joy, even in the midst of loss. You may feel totally overwhelmed, lost, numb, or just plain mad. That’s normal, totally allowed. You may be somewhere in my realm, existing in the space of joy and of sadness. In this household, we’re going to keep doing our thing, keep enjoying all those little moments, and keep holding space for all the complexities of this wild ride.