Managing Grief through the Holidays

Managing Grief through the Holidays
 
“It's coming on Christmas,
They're cutting down trees.
Putting up reindeer
Singing songs of joy and peace,
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on….”
 
“I'm so hard to handle,
I'm selfish and I'm sad.
Now I've gone and lost the best baby
That I've ever had.
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on…” 
 
                                           - Lyrics from “River” by Joni Mitchell and James Taylor
 
This pain-filled lament from one of my favorite Joni Mitchell songs capture, for me, the “mixed blessing” the holiday seasons can be for many of us.  Some of us are “all in” relishing the opportunity to decorate, shop, bake, and have extra time with loved ones - while others of us deeply wish we “had a river {we} could skate away on…” While this season’s celebrations are joyful for some, it’s often a time of anxiety and depression for many.  As the pace grows hectic, the pressures become demanding. Relationships become strained, and loneliness can deepen.    
 
The cultural expectations that we have about what “makes the season jolly” often leave many of us feeling disappointed, disillusioned, and empty.  There is an ideal in our head about what the holidays should look or feel like, and oftentimes - the changes, the transitions, or losses we are grieving can make us feel profoundly alone, like we’re totally “missing the boat.” 
 
There’s a book I’ve appreciated on grief called, “The Empty Chair.” It reminds us of the stark reality of the “empty chair” that often confronts us during the holiday season – where dad, mom, a child, or a partner used to sit.  That chair, when left unacknowledged, can haunt us and drain any meaning and joy from the holidays. 
 
In “The Empty Chair,” the authors compare grief to a firestorm.  Some of you remember well the fires that raged through the landscape at Yellowstone National Park a number of years ago.  Acres and acres of lush green forests wooded mountainsides were devoured by rampant flames, reduced to piles of blackened ashes.  Deer, bear, and elk had all lost their homes and were left scavenging for any sign of life.  The barren ground left behind looked completely devoid of beauty, life, or hope. 
 
This is the landscape of grief.  Death can turn the hopes and dreams of our lives into a desert wasteland.  We lose our bearings – the familiar routines in life that once gave us a sense of purpose and joy.  We can feel exhausted, afraid, and even helpless to find our direction again.  It can feel like death has left nothing but ashes in its wake.   
 
But there is hope.  There is hope when we acknowledge the pain and share our stories with others who are also struggling.  There is hope when we realize that as we go through the grief (we never get over it), we can find healing and a deeper sense of compassion and meaning. I believe that the Divine, the Universe, is always working, even as we wait, to raise up new life from these ashes.  A new power, a new self, a new identity, a new hope is always working to push through the hard, crusty ground - that we might find life again. 
 
This December, I am hosting a grief seminar at the Niwot Counseling Center to provide information and support for those of you who are struggling, or have loved ones who are struggling, this season.  You are warmly invited to attend a “Managing Grief through the Holidays” seminar on Thursday, December 12th from 6:30-8:30pm OR Friday, December 13th from 12:30-2:30pm at the  Niwot Counseling Center, 6800 N. 79th Street, Suite 207 (Upstairs), in downtown  Niwot in Cottonwood Square.  Space is limited and costs $10/person. Please RSVP at [email protected], find more information at my website at www.niwotcounseling.com, or call 720-610-5290.  You won’t have to talk at the seminar and are welcome to just listen.  Let us find hope together. 
 
Christine Ruth, M.Div, MS, LMFT has provided individual counseling and group support for 19 years through hospice bereavement services and through her own private practice.  
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