Terri This year, the holidays feel emptier. My dad passed away recently, and the season that’s supposed to be filled with warmth and togetherness now feels like a reminder of the distance that separated us even when he was alive. My dad lived in another state, and while my siblings and I tried our best to connect with him, it wasn’t always easy.
There were years when we’d find those special moments to celebrate together, sometimes during the holidays, and those memories have become so precious to me. Other years, though, life would pull us in different directions. Work schedules, kids, or other commitments would get in the way, and we’d have to miss spending the holidays together. We always thought, next year, there will be time. Now, as I face my first holiday season without him, I realize how fleeting that time really was.
Losing someone you love, especially from afar, leaves a unique ache. It’s not just the loss of their presence but the loss of all the moments you thought you’d still have. For me, this year is about learning how to honor my dad’s memory while navigating the ache of his absence. It’s been a struggle, but I’ve found small ways to cope, and I want to share them in case they can help someone else.
1. Accepting the Unpredictable Waves of Grief
Grief doesn’t come with a schedule. Some days, I feel like I’m handling things okay. Other days, the smallest reminder—a song, a smell, an old photo—brings the tears. I’ve learned to let myself feel it all, even when it’s inconvenient. If I need to step away from holiday prep or cancel plans, I remind myself that healing is messy, and that’s okay.
2. Creating New Traditions That Include Him
One thing I’m doing this year is making one of my dad’s favorite desserts for Christmas. I’ll be spending the holiday with my kids and their families, and I wanted to bring a piece of my dad into our celebration. It’s a small way to keep his memory alive and share a part of him with the next generation.
Cooking his favorite dessert feels like a way to connect with him, even though he’s no longer here. The act of mixing ingredients, the familiar smell wafting through the kitchen, and finally sharing it with my kids and grandkids gives me a sense of closeness to him. It’s a bittersweet tradition, but one that helps me feel like he’s still part of our holiday.
3. Remembering the Moments We Did Share
I have been on a journey of reflection lately. Even though there were holidays we missed together, I’ve decided to focus on the ones we didn’t. I’ve been sifting through old photos, letting each snapshot carry me back to the moments we shared. Those smiles, those bursts of laughter, and his unmistakable warmth, it all feels like a hug from the past, wrapping me up when I need it most.
I find myself replaying those moments like a favorite movie in my mind. His humor, his charm, and the way he made everything feel brighter, they’re my anchors. Through the tougher days, those memories have become my lifeline. It’s just me, myself, and I against the waves of grief, but with him in my heart, I’m finding my way.
4. Leaning on My Siblings
Grief can really make you feel like you’re in your own little world, but it’s also brought my siblings and me closer. We’ve been hanging out more, even if it’s just for random chats or silly little moments that make us laugh. We’ve started planning future visits where we can just relax, talk, and be there for each other. It’s a reminder that, even though we’ve experienced so much loss, we still have each other, and that’s something I truly cherish. It’s funny how, amid all this sorrow, we’re still managing to create new memories together. It feels like we’re rediscovering that, no matter what, we’re always a team.
5. Letting Go of Holiday Expectations
This year, for the first time, we’re doing something completely different for Thanksgiving. We are going out to eat instead of cooking at home. It feels strange, honestly, not to have the usual hustle and bustle of the kitchen or the smell of a turkey roasting all day. But in a way, it’s also a relief. The thought of recreating those familiar traditions without my dad feels too heavy, and letting someone else handle the meal gives me space to just be, to reflect, and to focus on what matters most.
Letting go of the pressure to make the holidays “perfect” has been freeing. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about the season; it just means I’m learning to redefine what it looks like for my family this year. And that’s okay.
6. Finding Comfort in the Little Things
Sometimes, it’s the smallest acts that bring the most comfort. Lighting a candle in his honor, playing one of his favorite songs, or even hanging an ornament that reminds me of him. It all helps. These little gestures make me feel like he’s still part of the season, even if it’s in a different way.
7. Embracing the Quiet Moments
There’s so much noise during the holidays, both literally and emotionally. I’ve started setting aside time for quiet reflection. Whether it’s journaling about my dad, flipping through his Facebook photos, or just sitting with my thoughts, these moments have helped me feel closer to him.
This holiday season, the hole my dad left feels enormous. But even in the grief, there’s a part of me that’s grateful for the years we did have, for the memories we made, and for the love that lingers, even now. If you’re facing a loss this season, I want you to know you’re not alone. The holidays may never feel the same, but we can carry the people we love with us, even if it’s in a new way.
Here’s to honoring them, to giving ourselves grace, and to finding moments of light, even in the shadows.