Navigating the Holidays Without Him

Grief and Joy Can Coexist

This is my third holiday season without my sweet husband—the man who absolutely loved Christmas. He would listen to Christmas music all year if I let him. I usually managed to hold him off to November, December, and January (at least in the house), but he always found ways around it. At his office in July? Yep, Perry Como singing “(There’s no place like) Home for the Holidays” or Bing Crosby crooning “White Christmas.” If you listen to this, you may not know that my husband could whistle quite as good as Bing!

He adored Christmas movies, especially the cheesy ones where the guy always gets the girl. And he’d tear up over sappy Christmas commercials—every single time. The day after Thanksgiving, he’d dive straight into setting up his beloved Christmas village, meticulously arranging the pieces he’d collected for years.

Over these past few years, I’ve learned to adjust my expectations of myself during the holidays. The waves of grief aren’t as overwhelming as they were in the beginning, but they still come. When they do, I give myself space to feel them, to acknowledge what I need in the moment. Sometimes that’s good company—friends and conversation. Sometimes it’s a good cry. And sometimes it’s curling up with a sappy Christmas movie.

There’s no right or wrong way to handle this; it’s all about listening to my body and heart. I don’t mind saying no to an invitation, and usually have an exit strategy if I say yes.

I’ve also found that making space for stillness really helps, a quiet walk, reading a good book, or taking a nap. My energy levels tend to dip a little this time of year, so I try to balance that with things that fill me up. Teaching yoga during the holidays is one of those things. It grounds me and gives me a chance to connect with others in a meaningful way. Being in a supportive community and having something to offer is a gift in itself.

Grief can feel all-consuming, but I’ve learned how important it is to also make room for joy and laughter. At the yoga studio, it is common for me to lose words when I’m teaching. I laugh at myself and force the class to laugh with me until all our bodies move in a joyful rhythm. It’s okay to seek out fun, to laugh and feel light—even if it feels strange at first. Grief and joy can coexist, no matter how contradictory that sounds. And honestly, laughter has been one of the most healing things for me.

If you’re navigating grief this holiday season, be gentle with yourself. The holidays can bring up so much, and grief is never a straight line.

Today grief is watching a Christmas movie without him.
Today joy is watching a Christmas movie, remembering him. 

Beginning next week, I will be teaching a 3-week meditation series. It will be live streamed if you’re not in Tucson and would like to participate. Times listed are Mountain Time. Here is the link to register. I would love to have you present.

As always, thanks for reading. I hope your Thanksgiving holiday was filled with love and laughter, time to be still, and an abundance of compassion and love for yourself and your loved ones.