Shortly after my dad passed away, we attended a grief support group called Grief Share, where we learned several tools and truths that have helped us navigate the ever changing journey of grief. There are many things I took away from that group, but one of the things that is always a great help me is this: grief comes in waves and when the waves come, its best to lean into them instead of resisting them. Most of the time these waves are unpredictable; they come when you least expect it. You never really know how long it will last or how much time you have before another one hits.

There are some waves that tend to come at the same time every year. One of those times is the holidays. This time of year is so emotionally charged and filled with memories and flashbacks, and I have yet to find a way to escape it. Whether your loved one has been gone for decades, a few years, or this is the first holiday with an empty seat at the table…the holidays are hard. Bittersweet is probably the best word I can use to describe it. You feel so many things, most of which are complete opposites, but you experience them all at the same time. The combination of happy memories and the reality that the one you love is no longer here to make new memories inflicts a kind of pain that can’t really be described. But if you’ve lost a loved one, you probably know the exact feeling.

The holidays are supposed to be a happy time and you’re probably wondering why I’m writing all of this now. This is our third Christmas without my dad, and while I’m no expert, I’ve learned some things along this difficult journey that I would like to share with you as we all prepare for our various celebrations. And also, because I know too many people that will be having their first Christmas with the indescribable void of people they never imagined their lives without. And the truth is, grief makes most of us uncomfortable. We don’t really know how to process it and if you haven’t experienced it, there is so much about it that you don’t understand. A lot of us want to do or say something that can bring some relief and comfort to those we love, and sometimes from the best places in our hearts, we can say or do things that might cause more harm than good. This isn’t the same for everyone, but after talking amongst my family, we came up with some things that have been the most comfort and support for us and wanted to share those with you.

• Be a safe place. Grief has many expressions and you never really know if something will make you laugh or cry. This kind of unpredictability is scary if you aren’t in a safe place, in addition to the pain you feel, the last thing you’re looking for is to be judged. I remember during our first Christmas without my dad, we were at a family gathering and a song came on that had a lot of memories attached and took us by surprise. It was a cross between not being able to breathe and tears coming so fast there wasn’t time to keep up. One of us rushed to skip the song, in an effort to make it hurt less, and someone that didn’t really understand what was going on, made a hurtful remark: “It’s just a song, what’s the big deal?” While I don’t believe it was malicious, it was hurtful. The big deal was that it was a song my dad and brother used to play/sing together every year. It wouldn’t be a big deal to anyone else, but to us it was huge. There are going to be things that you won’t understand, and that’s okay, as long as you create a safe space for those you love that are grieving to express whatever they are feeling. Because, like I mentioned earlier, it’s a wave and the thing about waves is…they pass. Ride the wave with us.

• We might be a mess, join us in the mess. Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we cry, both are okay. My dad was hilarious, and as a result there are many of our memories of him that still make us laugh. And there are some things that we miss so much it brings tears. Both expressions are sacred. Grief is messy, especially during the holidays, but if you can be gracious and present with us, let us laugh, cry, and remember without judgment or ridicule, you will enter into a space in our hearts so special you will be one of a select few that aren’t afraid to get a little messy.

• If you don’t know what to say, just sit down with us, its okay. Odds are, the silence might be a welcome change. We spend a lot of time talking about our loved ones and that’s important, and we appreciate that you let us, even if you’ve heard the story a thousand times. But often times, people feel like they need to give us some kind of wisdom or advice…sometimes that makes things worse. We aren’t looking for answers; we’re looking for a friend. If you don’t know what to say to us, its okay, you don’t have to say anything. Your presence with us in the silence will speak volumes.

• Don’t be afraid of us. We’re mostly the same people, we’ve just been marked by something that changes a piece of us forever. When we feel like people are avoiding us because grief makes them uncomfortable, it hurts. We didn’t choose this path, and we still want our friends and family. From the very first day, my grandpa has probably been one of the people that has best been able to really be there for me. He has never tiptoed around my grief. When he feels the time is right, he will ask me questions, like what I miss most about my dad. He always remembers my dad at family gatherings. He tells me his stories about my dad. And sometimes he sits in silence with me. I have never felt him hesitate to be near me or my grief. It takes a special person. Be that person.

• Love. However you express that best, just love us.

I’m not an expert, and will never claim to be one, but in the last few years I have experienced some of the best and worst of these things that I’ve mentioned. I’ve learned who the true friends in my life are and have been so richly blessed with people who don’t mind the mess. The holidays are hard, and there’s no way around it. But with the wonderful people in my life who love me well, they make a difficult season, a little less difficult.  Be those people.

Merry Christmas.

To those with an empty seat at the table this Christmas, you are in our thoughts and prayers.