How To Cope With Grief During The Holidays

The holiday season is a joyous time for most, but those who have experienced a loss, this usually festive time of the year can be a painful reminder that your loved one is no longer around. You wonder how will you cope with grief?

Everyone experiences loss of those they love, but the intensity of your grief can be doubled by your relationship to the person who died such as a parent, spouse or child and this is the first holiday without that person who was so important in your life.

Like me and most other people who face this holiday season with a huge void, a hole in our hearts we have many questions and thoughts that are conjured up in your mind like, How can I survive this?, I want to hide until the holiday season is over, I don’t feel like celebrating, I can’t act normal because my life isn’t normal, I can’t face happy people, No one understands the grief I am going through and how will our holiday traditions now be different?

You should know that there really are no right or wrong answers to all the questions and all the questions you ponder may not have answers, maybe not now anyway.

Before you are totally overcome with anxiety, overwhelm and sadness there are things you can do to ease your pain and sorrow.

Here are just a few ideas that will help you cope immediately this year. You will feel so much better honoring yourself and the memories of your loved one. You will also release expectations and surprises you don’t want to face.

Lower Your Expectations

Don’t feel obligated to send the holidays cards and bake all the cookies like you used to.

Honor What You Feel

These are your feelings and whatever you do this holiday, claim those feelings.

Planning Ahead

You now realize that this year’s holidays and perhaps holidays yet to come will not be the same or unfold how you’d wish. It is best to plan your days ahead as this will help you cope.

Empower yourself where you can

Obviously there are many changes you can’t escape from and you may feel your power has been taken away. Perhaps this is a good time to evaluate your holiday traditions, which ones hold meaning and which ones you want to keep.

Major changes

For the first year or two without your loved one, it usually isn’t a good idea to make any major changes to your traditions like leaving town only to escape or ignoring all sense of traditions you used to share.

Get and maintain a support system

The holiday season is a time when emotions naturally are running high

as are the memories making this a difficult time to be alone. I encourage you to find support of family and friends who can pitch in and offer help.

Remembering

If your loss was recent you will want everyone to remember your loved one, I know I did. You may choose to plan a ceremony or special tribute to honor your loved one, or a casual round the table recalling stories kind of sharing.

Gratitude

During your time of sorrow you may find it impossible to find anything to be grateful for. But I assure you even during our darkest time there are things we can be grateful for.

You too can cope with grief during the holidays if you are gentle with yourself and try some of these ideas and more than anything, finding some joy during this festive time of year is also a wonderful way of honoring the memories of those who have brought us so much joy and those still with us.

I was  interviewed on by Mary T Okeefe, founder of Well Within on her radio program.  Here is a link to that short interview.  CLICK this link to listen: 

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Grieving Makes Way For Grace

By Doreen Cox

The journey through grief, for me, began long before my mother died. Choosing to be a caregiver meant that life as I knew it would be completely changed. I stepped full-time into my Care Bear role at age 59 when my mother’s dementia took a stronger hold on her brain, causing her to mix up her meds. Making the choice to leave a full-time job as group counselor at an alternative school for expelled high school students was not an easy choice for me to make, especially for financial and health benefit reasons. I enjoyed my work. Yet, it seems as if there had always been invisible threads of connection between my mother and me, beyond our roles as mother and daughter. My heart especially yet, also, the inability for her to afford nursing home care made the decision for me. During the first year of mother-sitting, I came to visualize us as having always been joined by one of those leash-like contraptions that some mothers use to keep their toddlers from wandering away. Ours was just heart-felt and invisible!

 There were moments when anger, frustration, and depression came on me because I had let go my job and thus, my financial security, benefits and even a piece of my identity. My freedom to come and go went out the window along with the habit of getting a good night’s sleep. The weight of grief, however, came from the settling in of dementia into my mother’s brain. Although it was difficult at first for my independent mother to hand over the reins of her life to me, the dance of dementia in her brain was such that she eventually lost the memory of being a nurse, a mother, a sister, and an adult. Within a year of her death, my mother had no inkling of death or grief or loss because, within the mind of a child, each day was always fresh and new.

For my sisters and me, however, our dances with the journey of grief had become a daily affair. The experience through grief was made tolerable for me because the grief process had long been an interest of mine. I had read a lot of books. Previously, I had been involved in support group environments where people could talk openly about their situations, losses and emotions. Throughout my Care Bear experience, friends and family checked in with me daily so I always felt supported.  When my mother was napping, Wii Fitness bowling and tennis helped me burn off the fires of anger and frustration. The despair, helplessness and hopelessness of depression took a back seat during those moments in which I tuned out from grief and into healthy distractions like jigsaw puzzles, funny movies, reading or journaling. When my mother was awake and we were dealing with the obstinate responses of her brain and the tired, frustrated responses of my brain, I began to practice a simple, inexpensive exercise. This exercise required of me only one thing, that I be willing to practice.

There is no easy way to make it through the dance known as grief. Distractions might work for a while yet, because we are human, we will face grief head-on at some time and for various reasons. In those moments when anger, frustration, sadness and despair hit me the hardest, I began to practice the art of breathing through the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to pull me under. There were moments in which it felt as if I were having a heart attack. I even took my blood pressure a few times to see if a stroke was imminent. At first, I wanted some quick fix to escape the pressure yet the strongest emotions came when I was trying to cope with some dementia-related, out-of-the-blue behavior of my mother’s. I could not turn away, take five or do anything that would leave my mother in an unsafe situation. Breathing through the heaviness of emotion was a hands-free, non-interruptive practice. Yes, I also muttered a lot at first. Here is what I now know.   For me, continuing to breathe through the tightness, the heaviness, eventually brought me to the sense of calm that I needed in order to get things done. This practice was akin to a prayer. A focus on breathing through anger, sadness and despair invited prayerful thoughts into my mind. With practice, I came to experience a sense of a peace that passed all of my understanding. Every night when I had gotten my mother to sleep, I called someone, usually a sister, and talked out my day.

Because of our wonderful Hospice care staff, our mother was able to pass from this world while at home. During that last week of her life, there were moments when, looking at my sleeping mother, my breath would become still and a powerful wave of loving emotion would well up within me. At such moments, it seemed as if I might die or, at least, disappear if I stayed caught up in this emotion’s strength for too long. Religions have their ways of explaining love, using words that evoke or awaken one to an experience of God’s love. For me, it seemed as if there were instances near the end of my Care Bear journey in which Love simply gathered me in its strong, gentle arms and, for a moment, took me some place beyond the strongest emotions of grief. Always, afterwards, there was a sense of graciousness and freshness in place of the heaviness in my heart. Grace sat within my spirit after the heavy emotions of grief had had their release. Breathing through instead of resisting those emotions brought peace to me.

 When my mother died, a sense of this peace stayed with me even as I mourned the loss of her physical presence in my life. We had been mother and daughter, friends and, at the end, I played the role of mother while her brain saw herself as my daughter. I had lived out of state for a number of years and was the daughter who had written our mother many letters.  One day while going through my mother’s files not long after she had died, I found her cache of saved letters and cards.  Sitting and reading them while tears of anguish flowed, the sadness at no longer having her physical presence in my life became overwhelming. Continuing to breathe through the sadness, I finally had to get up and move around, doing various chores in order to burn up that overwhelming energy. When I sat back down, I was able to read the rest of the letters, still crying yet without the heaviness of despair. Sweet memories sat with me instead. As was my healthy habit, I called a sister.

There is no set formula that I have stumbled upon that might have helped me be able to immediately step out of those Care Bear and mother-sitting roles, pick up the missing pieces of my life and get the pieces all glued back together again in some kind of satisfied way. The words in my journal turned into a book, Adventures in Mother-Sitting. Writing and editing was cathartic for me and created a concentrated focus for the next year of my life. There are still those moments in which grief grabs my attention and breathing through again takes me to a peaceful shore named grace. My sisters and other family and friends and I continue to offer emotional support to each other.  I still have a connection with our Hospice chaplain and other staff who offered support to my family.

    It has been two years now since my mother, my cheerleader in life, has died. Something in my 63 year old spirit seems to be waking up. Though there is no clear direction yet for my life, I find that I am tuning more into social networking venues that relate to caregivers and grief issues. It feels timely now for me to make contact with local agencies and volunteer in some way. I do see a part-time job in my future, one that keeps me in contact with others versus one that is behind a desk. More will be revealed on that front. Other people that I cared about have since died. As my own deep level of grief has waned, it has become easier for me to offer more direct emotional support to others who are experiencing loss in their lives. Grief, as we know, is a journey to be shared. I no longer wait for grief to visit me out of the blue. Each day, I take some moments to sit and breathe through the sweet sadness of grief then sit quietly and reverently for a while with grace.

**Thanks Doreen for submitting such a beautiful story. Please share your comments in the box below.

If you want to submit a story for the Heartache To Healing site, you can learn more by clicking here.

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The Loss of a Child – Miscarriage

   Last week I got confirmation of a loss I never expected to experience in life.  I’ve lost many times over in life – my mom, best friend and grandmother all in a 3 month period.  But now, almost 15 years later, I am going through a different loss in life – the life of an unborn child.  Three weeks ago, I was ecstatic because I found out I was pregnant.  And now, I’ve experienced a miscarriage.  I’m lucky as I already have an amazing 3 year old, but I am still disappointed that #2 will not be coming as soon as I’d hoped.

Continue reading “The Loss of a Child – Miscarriage” »

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When a Child Dies

When a child dies there is no play book for coping or handling such grief according to Dave Roberts, who became a bereaved parent after his daughter Jeannine died of cancer on March 1, 2003 at the age of 18.      I met Dave at the annual Compassionate Friends Conference being held in Minneapolis this weekend.

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Finding Hope and Support When Your Child Dies

By Brittianee Neu

If you asked me on July 20, 2008, where I’d be in three years, it would have involved all the things I would be doing with my beautiful baby boy.  Like any parent, from the day I found out I was pregnant, all my thoughts, hopes and dreams for the future were filled with images of our family together, happy and loving life.  I would have never imagined in 24 hours, those dreams would be shattered and who I once was would cease to exist. Continue reading “Finding Hope and Support When Your Child Dies” »

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Grieving Mothers

As Mother’s Day approaches it can be a particularly sensitive occasion for those mourning the death of a mother.  I am one of those mourners.  Although it has been almost six years since my mother’s death, it will forever  be a holiday for which I can only honor her memory.  We all have our own very personal ways of remembering those who have died, and here are a few ideas; Continue reading “Grieving Mothers” »

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Grieving at a Young Age

by Lauren Muscarella

My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 5 years old. I never knew much about her prognosis and she didn’t look sick, and almost never acted sick. The first time I noticed a change in my mother I was home from college for a wedding, four months later I visited for Thanksgiving, by then my mother had lost her hair and her mobility. The transformation shocked my system. When she passed away one month later, I was stunned.  I left the funeral and flew back to start my spring semester the next day, I was only 20 years old and grief hadn’t entered my vocabulary.

It was subconscious but I somehow completely avoided dealing with the loss of my mother for almost three years. The word advice can have a bad connotation so I won’t give advice but here is my suggestion for dealing with a death;  accept that you’ll make mistakes,  commit to figuring out how to cope,  love and respect the people who love you,  be patient and over time you’ll gain clarity.

Bottling up your feelings isn’t right or wrong but when your feelings rear their heads, it’s inevitable that they will need to be dealt with.

Not knowing how to cope is understandable. Being young we’re not experienced with grief.  Even in circumstances where we see it coming, it’s hard to prepare for something so heavy.  It’s hard to deal with all of the emotions that come along with such a situation.  It’s even harder to know the right way to handle it. My deflection of choice was conformity.  In May of 2007 I was graduating from American University with a Cum laude on my diploma and a job waiting for me at an established publisher in town. If that sounds cool,  it’s less cool in practice but it is the societal standard and presumption of what you’re supposed to do.

Before my mom passed away I was a little wild. I went out five nights a week and let my developing frontal lobe rule. After she passed I took her words, “You can’t stop living because I do,” very seriously. I became a much more conscientious student. I opted for an internship leaving my fledgling career as part health food store cashier part yoga instructor behind. Then I pushed my friends away. In my last year of school my roommate and I were studying one night and I said something that offended her. She was upset I didn’t notice so she stopped talking to me. I was devastated because I thought we were such good friends. Normally I would have talked it out with her but I wasn’t feeling capable of a constructive conversation at that time so I let it fester. Eventually she moved out so my boyfriend and I moved in together. I had the full package: the diploma, the steady boyfriend and the job.

My graduation ceremony fell on Mother’s day. I was an anxious mess. I wanted everything to be perfect so of course everything went wrong. My hair color turned out heinous. The restaurants I picked fell flat. The directions I gave led to unprecedented traffic. And the party my brother threw started with me sitting on the bathroom floor crying because my hair, outfit and venue were “all wrong”. More likely I was crying because my mother wasn’t there. I missed her and I didn’t know how best to handle it.

After a year of grief counseling and a U-Haul out of my premature domesticity, I realized the two things that helped me most were simple but challenging. First of all, I had to take care of myself. Second, writing about the experience of losing my mom helped me figure out how I felt. That revelation led to http://MamaQuest.org, a blog I started to share my journey through loss and talk about how my mom was truly one of a kind. The response overwhelmed me. I became an available listener. Because I shared my experience of grief, people feel safe to tell me their story. Hearing other people’s stories is both cathartic for them and comforting for me. As a result I launched Trauma to Art (http://Trauma2art.com), a movement to encourage creative expression from those who have experienced loss. After the launch my theory was confirmed. Everyone’s experience is unique but we all share a common problem: how do we cope?

(Teenagers and young adults often walk through their grief differently than older adults. Lauren’s story shares some of what she experienced and I encourage young people to visit her blog and share your feelings because peer to peer support is often the very support we need.  ~ JoAnne Funch, Heartache To Healing)

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Reconciling To Our Loss

If  I were to ask anyone who has or is suffering the grief of a significant loss if they wanted to eliminate the constant pain of their loss and find a way to be happy and live again I don’t think anyone would say no.  And yet, many of us walk away from the very same opportunity each day.  Having happiness again does not depend on someone walking up to you with a magic wand and waving the pain away.  No, the steps to finding peace, honoring the memory of your loved one and living life again begins with you taking the first steps.

Continue reading “Reconciling To Our Loss” »

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Understanding The Stress of Anticipatory Grief

This past week my sister-in-laws mother died after spending 10 days in Hospice and prior to that 7 months of at home critical care by the family knowing she would never get better from her cancer diagnosis.  My sister-in-law was the primary care giver to her mother spending 5 days a week at her side during the day and her other siblings stepped in to fill the other time.

I watched the toll this care giving took on all the family members while anticipating her inevitable death.  The symptoms of anticipatory grief can include  mood swings, forgetfulness, disorganized and confused behavior, anger, depression, denial, feeling disconnected from life and alone.   You may have health symptoms, too, such as weight loss or gain, problems sleeping, nervous behavior, depression and general fatigue.

Depending on your loved one’s illness, you may grieve for a year, five years, 10 years, or more. The slow decline of a loved one is a heavy burden. Edward Myers, in his book “When Parents Die,” says this burden comes with special hardships. Myers compares a slow decline to an advancing glacier.

A sudden death hits you like an explosion, Myers explains, and sends you into shock, whereas a slow decline “arrives more like a glacier, massive and unstoppable, grinding you down.” Dealing with the symptoms of anticipatory grief gets harder with each passing day.

One thing you can do is give yourself permission to cry. Tears are an emotional release, according to Jeffrey A. Kottler, author of “The Language of Tears.” He thinks crying brings people together. When you cry and share your story with others, they share their stories with you.

According to author Harriet Hodgson, you may compile a support list. Put contact names, phone numbers, and email addresses on your list. Add anticipatory grief “prescriptions” to your list, things like a daily walking group, half-day cooking class, or book club meeting.

Hodgson goes on to explain that anticipatory grief symptoms are a big deal. Handling these symptoms is one of the best deals you’ll ever make with yourself. The things you learn today will brighten your tomorrows.

FOR: RESOURCES FOR HOSPICE CARE

How To Cope With Grief During The Holidays

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Mourning’s Not Predictable

Mourning the loss of a loved one is not orderly or predictable, you will address the following needs when you are ready & will prepare you to take action on healing your broken heart.

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- Accept the reality of the death
- Allow yourself to feel the pain & sorrow of the loss
- Allow yourself to openly remember & honor the person who died
- In time, develop a new identity
- Search for meaning in your life going forward
- Always let people in to help you during this time and always

with love, inspiration & hope

JoAnne Funch, Founder

P.S.  Do you need help? Need someone to walk you through the next steps in your grief journey?

I offer private consulting and small group workshops.  email me for details. joanne@heartachetohealing.com

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