Holidays and grief: how to survive the holidays after loss

Photo by: Domagoj Skledar - illustration/ arhiva (vlastita)

Holidays often awaken feelings of warmth and togetherness, but for many who are grieving — due to the death of a parent, partner, child, family member, or close friend — this time of year can amplify pain, remind them of the empty seat at the table, and overwhelm plans with emotions that seem to have no room. When the calendar reaches December 10, 2025, amidst glittering shop windows, school plays, and office parties, many wonder how to survive the day, let alone "enjoy" it. Experts warn that it is perfectly okay to admit that the holidays are difficult — and that it is not necessary to "enjoy" them for them to be meaningful.

Why holidays amplify grief

Holiday periods put everything that matters to us under a magnifying glass: family roles, rituals, expectations of a "perfect" celebration, and the collective idea that everyone should be happy. That is why loss becomes more visible and painful. In many families, the deceased were precisely those who were the "anchor" of gatherings — grandmothers, grandfathers, mothers, and fathers who held everything together. When they are no longer there, the dynamics change, and with them, the sense of belonging. Experienced therapists often warn that the need to reproduce old customs after the death of a parent or partner, although filled with love, can intensify the wound; for some people, it is more useful to acknowledge that this is a "different season" and make room for small changes that reduce pressure.

At the same time, holidays "force" intense socialization, extra costs, and a condensed schedule. If you already struggle with anxiety, exhaustion, or insomnia, this pressure acts as an amplifier. Research on loneliness and loss shows that grief and social isolation go hand in hand; even without a formal diagnosis of depression, grieving can bring waves of lethargy, numbness, and guilt for not feeling "what you should." It is important to know that these feelings are normal and can be managed: clearly communicated boundaries, lowered expectations, and small, daily self-care routines often make a difference.

What numbers and experiences tell us

Demographic data confirm how widespread the experience of loss is. Official statistics for the United States show that by their late forties, a significant portion of adults have already lost at least one parent, and by their late fifties, the majority have experienced that loss. In other words, what you are going through is not an exception but a common life trajectory. Additionally, changes in family structures and work rhythms — including more frequent "distant" families, more single-person households, and generally less time for self-care — mean that many welcome the holidays with a smaller support network than in previous decades. In such circumstances, even relatively "light" obligations easily become too heavy. That is precisely why experts emphasize: it is about a season with intensified triggers, not your "weakness."

"Give yourself permission": key messages from experts

Psychologists, psychiatrists, and grief counseling centers have been repeating several simple but powerful messages for years:

Be radically gentle with yourself. Lower expectations, be flexible, and give up perfectionism. It is not your task to "save" the holidays nor to prove that you have "gotten over it."

Communicate honestly. If you don't know what to say to a grieving person — say that. If you are that person and don't know what you need — say that too. Simple sentences, like "this week is hard for me, I don't know if I'll be able to come," open space for understanding.

Give yourself the right to change. Traditions are alive and allowed to change. Sometimes it is healthiest to say: "This year we are doing less, differently, and quieter."

Rely on the "small pillars" of the day. Food, sleep, movement, and contact with a close person are usually enough to make the day manageable. Everything else is an addition, not an obligation.

How to adjust rituals (and why it is okay to create new ones)

Rituals give structure and meaning, but when they hurt, you have the right to rearrange them. Some families decide to keep one detail in honor of the deceased person — for example, setting an extra plate, lighting a candle, or sharing a warm reminder of them before dinner. Others introduce completely new gestures: a holiday letter to the loved one, a walk in a place they loved to go, a small project of helping others (a package for a single person in the building, a donation to a local association, volunteering in a soup kitchen). There are also those who temporarily "freeze" part of the customs — give up traveling, change the celebration location, or replace it with a more intimate meeting. All these decisions are legitimate if they reduce pressure and protect what is most important to you now: basic stability and a sense of safety.

In this, the rule of preventive honesty applies. If you know that a certain event or song breaks you, tell family members before drama arises. If you assess that traveling is too much for you, offer an alternative: a short video call, lunch in January, or cooking together over the weekend. If social networks "sting" you too often with reminders, temporarily log off, hide certain posts, and mute keywords. Self-care is not selfishness; it is a prerequisite for being able to be present for others at all.

Practical plan for the holiday week

When grief fogs the view, a plan helps. Here follows a framework you can freely change:

Define the minimum. Write down what is "enough": one call, a short walk, a warm meal, half an hour of sleep without an alarm. Everything beyond that is a bonus.

Incorporate micro-breaks. After every obligation (buying gifts, visiting relatives), plan 15–20 minutes of silence without screens. Breathing, a shower, stretching.

Limit exposure to triggers. Make a list of songs, movies, and places you avoid this month — and a list of safe replacements.

Arrange a "safety net." Choose two people you can call without notice. Send them a short message about what you need if you withdraw (a reminder to eat, a short walk, help with children).

Create a "ritual of tenderness." Every day at the same time, light a candle, write three sentences in a journal, or read a passage from a book that calms you.

Boundaries are a holiday decoration. When you say "no," you open space for what truly benefits you. "This year I'm skipping the big celebration, but I'd love to go for tea in January."

Gentle body, calm mind. Choose light movement (walking, stretching) and simple meals. Alcohol and sugar soothe in the short term but often deepen the crash after the celebration.

When to seek professional help

Not everyone carries grief in the same way, but there are signs that it is time to involve a professional: a sense of hopelessness that lasts for weeks, thoughts of self-harm, inability to perform basic obligations (sleeping, hygiene, nutrition), addictive behavior as a way of "anesthesia," or intense grief that does not subside and interferes with functioning. Then contact a family medicine doctor, psychologist, or psychiatrist. If you are already in therapy, tell the therapist that December is particularly difficult and arrange additional or longer sessions. If you are helping a child or adolescent, pay extra attention to sleep rhythm, school support, and safe adults in the environment; young people often need structured support and clear, repeated assurances that it is okay to feel everything they feel.

How to be there for a person who is grieving

Uncertainty about the "right words" often paralyzes us. Good news: no one expects a perfect speech. Instead of generalities and phrases, use simple sentences and very concrete offers. Examples:

"I'm not sure what you need, but I'm here. Can I stop by for 20 minutes tomorrow?"

"I'm going to the store. Do you need bread, milk, fruit?"

"Can I pick up the kids on Friday afternoon so you can rest a bit?"

"If you want, we can light a candle together and mention your mom/your dad."

Avoid relativizations ("time heals everything"), comparisons ("I know how you feel"), and redirecting the story to yourself ("I also..."). A silent hug often says more than advice. If the person refuses the invitation, do not cut off contact — send a short message in two or three days. Support is a marathon, not a sprint.

Small "toolbox" for sensitive days

We highlight simple techniques recommended by health institutions and associations, which you can try immediately:

5–4–3–2–1 Technique. When memories rush in, become aware of five things you see, four you can touch, three you hear, two you can smell, and one that has a taste. It returns you to the present moment.

"Geography of grief." Draw a map of places that wake memories: apartment, park, church, cemetery, shop. Mark "safe routes" you can move along these weeks.

"Plan B" for unexpected tears. Keep tissues, a bottle of water, and a short note to yourself in your bag ("It is allowed to cry. Breathe. Call M.").

Digital hygiene. Shorten time on social networks, mute notifications, turn off "memory reminders." If certain contents upset you, report, hide, or stop following.

Sleep without guilt. Grief is exhausting. If you get sleepy in the afternoon, sleep for 20–30 minutes. There are no points for endurance.

Conscious breathing. Three times a day, set aside two minutes for slow inhaling through the nose and prolonged exhaling. Simple, yet effective.

Resources and places for help

When you need structured support, look for information and verified advice on the websites of health institutions, mental health associations, and grief centers. Renowned clinics regularly publish practical guides for coping with grief during the holidays, and associations working with grieving persons offer free "check-lists," workshops, and guides for family and friends. Also, centers often publish current schedules of support groups and webinars during December and January; registration is usually quick, and participation is possible online too. When in doubt, start from the verified sources below.

Holidays are allowed to be modest

Perhaps it is most important to remind: nothing is a "must." If the only light you can bear is the flame of a candle next to a photo of a loved one, that is enough. If you don't feel like talking today, allow yourself silence. If a cup of tea and a short message to a friend look most like joy to you, that is joy. Holidays are allowed to be modest, soft, and quiet. And they are allowed to be yours.