Grief and gratitude

Here in Minnesota, the trees have lost their leaves. Days are shorter and cooler and night falls surprisingly fast. Winter is coming. For those who are grieving, the approaching holidays can feel overwhelming. What do I do, this year — perhaps for the first time ever — without my loved one beside me?

Years ago, I worked with a client who couldn’t bear the thought of a big Thanksgiving the first year after her loved one died. She was just too exhausted. She felt the need for a time of quiet reflection, for space to grieve. Although her family protested, she persisted, roasting a Cornish game hen instead of turkey, keeping the sides simple and carving out the space she needed to begin to heal.

For each of us, this Thanksgiving likely will look a little bit different. Be as gentle as you can with yourself as you consider what might work or not work for you. It’s okay to do things differently — smaller, quieter or less-effortfully.

It’s also okay to walk with both sadness and gratitude. We can hold heartache and hope together, remembering what we’ve been given and what cannot be taken away