Holiday grief: Find comfort & connection in memories

There is no timetable for grief, and sometimes our journeys of missing a lost loved one will be lifelong. The intensity of the grief we feel, though, is often magnified around the holidays—that sense of yearning for someone, of remembering them in a most visceral manner (through the tastes of the holiday food, the smells of an evergreen tree, say, or the feel of the hugs and stockings and warmth of the fire)...

Even amidst the joy, we may still feel sadness—and that’s not only okay, it is normal.

Here, I wanted to share two simple ideas—principles that have helped me on my healing path, and ones that I do believe can have a worthwhile impact on others.

Shared memories are a gift.

“Nothing makes me happier than someone asking me about my dad and what he was like,” writes Jahanvi Sardana, who lost her father to brain cancer in early 2017.

My own mother died thirteen years ago this month (three days after Christmas, to be precise), and I still feel exactly as Sardana does: The best gift—for Christmas or at any time of year—is simply, definitively, a shared memory of my mother.

I cherish when people share specific memories: That time my mother made everyone in the car laugh so hard that they had to pull away from the McDonald’s drive-thru because no one could talk through their guffaws. The time my mother hugged a coworker when he was having a bad day. The time she made spinach quiche for the elderly couple she saw at chemo every week. Or how, after wearing one blue sock and one black sock to the office, she combated her color blindness by having a friend help her label her laundry by color.

These are not monumental memories. They are moments.

But in their specificity, my mother comes alive for me.

I, too, feel connected to the person sharing the memory—they knew my mother, they experienced her. As I have so few people with whom to reminisce, these moments of sharing are even more precious to me when they happen.

“Keep your loved ones alive in your conversations, your memories, the way you live because end of life in no way translates to end of relationship,” Sardana says.

Remember that your recollections are a balm to the soul. Don’t ever refrain from sharing, or thinking that your memories may prove too painful; on the contrary, I can almost guarantee that your stories—no matter how inconsequential they may seem—are welcome to someone who has experienced a loss, whether that loss occurred yesterday or a decade ago.

Grief is another form of love.

At the memorial service for my grandmother, there were lots of sympathetic hugs. I remember those and the many words of support vaguely, through the fog of loss that shrouded me on that day.

One memory, though, is vivid: My friend Marc told me, “Your sadness is big because your love was big.” Those weren’t his exact words, but they capture his meaning, an idea that seemed new and comforting and obvious all at the same time. In his Marc way, he told me how lucky I was to have experienced such a loving relationship with my grandmother, and how my grief was proof of that love. What a revelation.

It was also evocative of my mother’s enduring philosophy, that we should be ever grateful. In that moment of loss, thanks to a friend’s words, I felt connected to my mom, and blessed to have had my grandmother in my life.

“The greater the love the greater the grief,” wrote C.S. Lewis, echoing my friend’s wisdom.

Jahanvi Sardana, who wrote about her father’s recent death, would agree, it seems: “Grief numbs your body, breaks your heart, and drains your veins, but grief also is just another form of love.”

Be patient with yourself, and gentle in your grief.

“Grief is tremendous, but love is bigger,” Cheryl Strayed says. “You are grieving because you loved truly. The beauty in that is greater than the bitterness of death. Allowing this into your consciousness will not keep you from suffering, but it will help you survive the next day.”

Yes. Yes.

Resources & more for those who are grieving

When I first wrote this article in 2017, Sheryl Sandberg’s book Option B—which she wrote in the wake of her husband’s death, when she feared she would never feel true joy again—was a bestseller, and I noted with gratitude that she had created a community around the idea of resilience in the face of adversity. The Option B website continues to offer ways to

• connect with people who understand

• immerse oneself in inspiring stories—or share your own

• get practical advice for talking about loss and other challenges.

More recently, I have been listening to Anderson Cooper’s thoughtful, inspiring podcast called “All There Is” in which he vulnerably explores grief as he goes through his mother’s things after her death. I highly recommend listening, whether your loss is fresh or years behind you. I related to so very much he and his guests had to say; I think you will, too.

Related Reading:

The Healing Power of Remembrance: “The prescription for joy and healing after loss is to remember.”

Mommy & Me: How a struggle to tell my mother’s whole story turned into a more intimate portrait of love.

Notes from a Funeral: Sharing memories about lost loved ones to heal—and why we don't honor our families through story sharing now.

Keeping memories alive: How tribute books can create a lasting legacy of your deceased family member

This post, originally published on December 19, 2017, has been updated on November 30, 2022.

The healing power of remembrance

I talk often about the power of story. Rarely, though, have I been so confronted with just how powerful story and remembrance can be specifically in the face of grief as I was this Monday at a talk at the New York Open Center. 

In a discussion billed as “Keeping Alive the Memories of Lost Loved Ones for Healing and Resilience,” three luminaries—Henry Louis Gates, Jr., Soledad O’Brien, and Allison Gilbert—spoke openly about their own experiences and shed light on why the more you honor your family and friends who have passed, the more likely you are to reach your fullest potential in the present.

The ambivalence around memories for those who are grieving

“When loss is fresh, there is a school of thought that resurrecting memories is too painful. But the opposite is actually true,” said Allison Gilbert, author most recently of Passed and Present: Keeping Memories of Loved Ones Alive.

Anyone who has experienced loss will nod their heads in recognition at Gilbert’s words. It is in this time of need that other people so often remain quiet because they simply don’t know what to say.   

Sheryl Sandberg, who has been making the talk-show rounds in support of her new book Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy, echoes that experience, recently saying that after her husband Dave died, “People were so afraid of saying the wrong thing that they hardly said anything at all.”

When Sandberg lost her husband in 2015, she lost her bearings; and her book is as much a helpful guide for those who have suffered a recent loss as it is for those who aren’t sure how to talk about loss or approach their friends who are grieving. 

“I think a lot of people wanted to reach out to her, but they didn’t know how,” says Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg. “You know, there’s this whole question of, Are you reopening a wound or something? And of course, what she would say is ‘You’re not reopening the wound. I mean, it’s, like, open and gaping.’” [Time]

Nostalgia: research says it’s good

“There’s no time limit for grieving,” Gates said at the New York Open Center.

“And there is no roadmap to remembering,” added Gilbert. “Mourning allows you to be passive when you need to be passive. But at some point you’ve got to pivot from passive mourning to active remembrance.”

Her book Passed and Present hones in on highly specific ways to keep memories of lost loved ones alive, from memorializing a family recipe on a platter to creating a tribute book in your loved one’s memory. (I highly recommend Gilbert’s book for anyone hungry for ways to keep the spirit of your lost loved ones near.)

Taking intentional steps to remember those of our loved ones who are no longer with us is essential to healing our grief, building our resilience, and empowering our positive action in the world. Indeed, there is a huge body of current research that shows nostalgia—a sentimental longing for the past—is good for us, Gilbert said.

“Momentous life events, the primary fodder of nostalgia, entail cherished time spent with family, friends, and relationship partners…. which, when reflected upon, serve to impart meaning,” reads one hallmark study.

As Gilbert describes, “When we feel an intense bond with loved ones from our past, we're more likely to feel similar bonds with those around us in the present,” and this deep sense of connection in turn may assuage our grief.

The value in active remembering

Gilbert’s children were born years after her mother’s death, and she said she “had this profound need to keep their memories alive for my children.” One powerful way to do that is through story sharing. “I don’t tell my kids stories about my mom and my dad. I tell them stories about their grandmother and their grandfather.”

“How we really communicate is through narrative,” O’Brien said. We are connecting people through the narrative: “You tell the story about your lost loved ones—it’s what you pass on. The narrative is what makes people live even if they’re dead.”

Memories are the connective tissue that binds one generation to the next, and the active nature of remembering is healing.

“The prescription for joy and healing after loss is to remember,” Gilbert said.

Legacy books as memory prompts

Photographs of our lost loved ones serve as effective prompts for jogging our memories and actively engaging in storytelling about them, Gilbert said.

Capturing and preserving the deceased’s stories—their values and personality and experiences—in a tribute memory book, is an even more compelling way to cement their legacy. More importantly, a legacy book such as this is a living testimony in that it will continue to prompt story sharing and reminiscence about your lost loved one.

I personally experienced this last week when my son (who is seven going on 40) entered my room in his pajamas, hiding something behind his back. “Mom, I was wondering. I know it’s not our typical bedtime routine,” he began (see, 7 going on 40!), “but do you think we could look at this book about Nanny tonight for our bedtime story?” 

He produced the small memory book I had made for him after his great-grandmother’s passing; she had lived with us and the two had been exceptionally close. The fact that my son proactively sought this time to remember her—and that he proudly retold many of their stories while we snuggled—warmed my heart in a most special way. 

Gilbert described nostalgia, like empathy, as a social emotion: “It brings you closer to people not just in your past, but also in your present.” I can attest to that.

May you, too, find peace—and joy—in remembrance.

Related Reading:

• Notes from a Funeral: Sharing memories about lost loved ones to heal—and why we don't honor our families through story sharing now. 

• Mommy & Me: How a struggle to tell my mother’s whole story turned into a more intimate portrait of love

• Legacy Book FAQ: Answers to some common questions about what goes in a legacy book, and how they are created