Honouring grief, love, and what still remains
Hi [FIRST NAME GOES HERE],
As we move toward the festive season, many people are preparing for gatherings, lights, food, and the familiar rituals that bring comfort each year. But for others, Christmas feels very different. It is a season where joy and sorrow sit side by side, where celebration is softened by the ache of someone who is no longer here.
Another aspect of my work involves the funeral industry. This weekend, I will be speaking at a memorial service in Hobart, and I have been reflecting deeply on how grief seems to intensify at this time of year. The script I will share there includes words that capture the quiet heartbreak so many carry during what is traditionally a season of togetherness.
Grief at Christmas has its own shape.
It appears in the empty chair at the table.
In the traditions that no longer look the same.
In recipes that hold stories of generations.
In the sudden sting of a song, a smell, or a memory.
And yet, grief is not only a sign of loss.
It is a sign of love.
When Christmas Feels Different
For many families I work with, the holidays are a time when memories resurface strongly. They recall the person who carved the ham just right, who always told the jokes, who wrapped the gifts with too much tape, who made the special pudding, who held the whole room together with their presence.
Grief does not diminish these memories.
It illuminates them.
The truth is, Christmas can be a tender time. You might feel joy in one moment and sudden sadness in the next. You may feel deeply connected or profoundly alone. You may need quiet instead of celebration. Whatever you feel is valid.
There is no “right” way to grieve.
There is only your way.
A Gentle Recipe for Healing at Christmas
Inspired by words from two beautiful pieces included in this weekend’s service, here is a simple recipe that might support you or someone you love during this season.
Ingredients
- A handful of cherished memories
- One open heart, prepared to feel
- A pinch of gratitude for what was shared
- A dash of courage for the quiet moments
- A blanket of self-compassion
- A flicker of hope to light the way
- A circle of friends or family, if available
Method
- Begin with gentleness. Recognise where you are emotionally and honour it.
- Fold in memories. Speak their name, recall their stories, or smile at something they loved.
- Add courage. Allow space for tears, laughter, or stillness.
- Sprinkle with gratitude. Let the moments you shared warm your heart.
- Wrap yourself in compassion. Let go of expectations about how you “should” feel.
- Kindle hope. Light a candle or create a small ritual to honour the love that remains.
Healing at Christmas is not about erasing grief.
It is about creating room for both sorrow and love to coexist.
A Thought to Sit With
You cannot reach for the new if your arms are full of yesterday’s weight.
Letting go does not mean forgetting.
It means making space for what comes next.
This season, may you move gently.
Cry when you must.
Laugh when you can.
And trust that even in your broken heart, you will be okay.
Your grief is real.
Your love is real.
And both deserve honour.