There's a moment every year when the stores flip from pumpkins to twinkle lights, and something in me braces a little. It's not just because it's often still summer outside when I'm seeing Christmas displays.
The holidays have a way of shining a spotlight on whoever is missing. The empty chair. The phone call that doesn't come. The recipe nobody else makes quite right.
For me, it really starts in October. My brother died on October 8th in a car accident while stationed in California, serving in the Navy. Even though he's been dead longer than he was alive, the loss of him and the absence of him in my family still hits me harder than I expect.
So let's talk about how to get ready, gently, before the season is fully here.
Why Grief Gets Louder This Time of Year
Holidays are full of traditions, and traditions are full of people. When someone is gone, every ritual can become a reminder.
There's also pressure to feel merry. Grief doesn't follow the calendar's mood, and trying to force cheer often makes the ache heavier.
And sometimes the body remembers before the mind does. You might feel tired, irritable, or low in the weeks before an anniversary or holiday without knowing why. Therapists sometimes call this an anniversary reaction. It's not you doing grief wrong. It's your body remembering someone who mattered.
Decide Ahead of Time (Just a Little)
You don't need a perfect plan. But a few small decisions now can save you from making hard ones in the moment.
Keep, change, or skip. Look at your usual traditions and ask which ones still feel good, which could use a new shape, and which you'd like to sit out this year. All three are allowed.
Have an exit plan. Drive yourself to gatherings, or agree on a quiet signal with someone you trust. Knowing you can leave often makes it easier to stay.
Pick your person. Choose one friend, partner, or family member you can text when a wave hits. You don't have to explain. "Rough moment" is enough.
Make Room for the One You Miss
Many people find comfort in giving their grief a place to land, instead of pretending it isn't at the table.
Light a candle for them.
Cook their favorite dish, or play their favorite song.
Share a story about them, out loud.
Take a quiet walk on a day that matters.
Small rituals like these can let love and loss sit side by side.
Expect Mixed Feelings
You might laugh at dinner and cry in the car twenty minutes later. You might feel guilty for having a good time at all.
In IFS terms, that's different parts of you showing up. One part is ready for joy. Another is holding the loss close. Neither is wrong. You can let both be there.
When a Wave Hits
My buddy and I were talking about this recently. Our friend group is grieving the loss of her wife, and when we were chatting about how to navigate it, this concept came up: grief is a lot like waves. Some days it just runs gently over your toes, there and then gone before it really registers. Other days it's more like getting caught in an undertow. There's no fighting your way straight back to shore. You have to surrender to it a little, let it take you where it's taking you, and trust that it eventually loosens its grip and lets you find your footing again.
I love that image because it takes the pressure off. You're not grieving wrong if some days it's ankle-deep and some days it pulls you clean off your feet. The tide doesn't check your calendar, and neither does grief.
So if you feel a wave rising, gentle or otherwise:
Feel your feet on the floor.
Breathe in, then let your exhale be a little longer than your inhale. A few rounds can help your nervous system settle.
Step outside, even for a minute.
You're not trying to make the feeling go away. You're just helping your body ride it out, the way you'd ride a current instead of swimming against it.
A Note for Those Supporting Someone Who's Grieving
If someone you love is missing someone this season, you don't need the perfect words. Say their person's name. Ask, "Do you want to talk about them?" Then follow their lead.
You Don't Have to Do This Alone
Grief isn't a problem to fix. It's love with nowhere to go, and it deserves care.
If this season feels heavy and you'd like some support moving through it, I'd be honored to walk alongside you. Reach out here whenever you're ready.
