|

The Truth About the Holidays After Loss

Finding peace, meaning, and memory in a season that looks different

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission—at no extra cost to you—if you choose to make a purchase through a link. I only recommend things I truly love and think may bring value to you. Thank you so much for supporting my work here at Next Chapter Living—it truly means a lot and helps me keep sharing from the heart.

You know that feeling you get when you are nervous, but not quite sure why? When you have that slight jitter in your stomach?
Not quite anxiety, but something close. A mix of anticipation and… something harder to name.

A single lit candle with blurred bokeh lights in the background, symbolizing hope and remembrance during holidays after loss.

That’s how I’ve been feeling lately. The holidays are coming, and with them, the memories.
The kind that bring both warmth and a little ache. Holidays after loss are different.

I keep thinking about our old Thanksgiving table. The one so full of people we needed 25 or 30 place cards.
Little paper turkeys, each holding a paper cup of mints. My mom, carefully setting the table, way too far in advance (the kids’ table too), while I watched and counted down the days with excitement.

I remember picking out the perfect outfit, laughing for hours with cousins, and feeling that smile on the inside radiate through my face. It seemed as though this kind of Thanksgiving would always be the same forever.

Over the years, those tables got smaller. They broke off into smaller ones, at new houses and new seasons. But the heart of it all and the feeling of being surrounded by those you love still remained.

And now, as I approach another year without my parents, without the ones who made those holidays feel magically complete, I feel that flutter turn into something dreadful. Now, the to-dos, the organizing, the energy are all up to us who are left behind. We do a great job and we are blessed to have one another to gather with and remember. I still can’t quite believe my mom’s not here to lead the way and Dad’s not laughing and smiling at his grandchildren from his chair.

I want to keep their memory alive in everything I do. But that isn’t always easy.

When the Season Is Bittersweet

This time of year can feel impossible to balance — the joy and the grief, the traditions and the empty seats. I want to create meaningful moments for my family now, but part of me is still holding space for the memories I shared with the people who aren’t here anymore.

So instead of trying to recreate what was, I’m trying to focus on what can be. I’m finding small, meaningful ways to carry their memory into the moments we’re still making, with heart instead of heaviness.

Here are a few ideas that I am thinking of this season:

❤️ Include a loved one’s favorite dish in your holiday meal — or rename a recipe in their honor. And in honor of my beloved aunt, I think “Delicious Dolores’s Dressing” has a nice ring to it.

❤️ Play a game they loved or share a story they always told at the table — the one that still makes everyone laugh (or cry a little).

❤️ Name the holiday cocktail or mocktail after them. Something fun, or totally sentimental. Whatever feels right. I’m planning on something fun with this one…

❤️ Create a memory moment — leave a note card at each place setting for people to write a short memory or something they’re thankful for, then read them aloud or tuck them away in a keepsake jar.

❤️ Light a candle in their honor before the meal. Just one small light that says, “We remember, we’re grateful, and you’re still here with us.”

These little things don’t bring them back — but they bring a kind of warmth that helps us feel connected, even as time moves on.

How I’m Honoring the Season (and Myself)

  • I’m keeping some small traditions alive and making new ones
  • I’m spending more time with my people and less time trying to impress anyone.
  • I’m giving myself space to miss them and smile at the same time.

I bought a little gold paw necklace after we lost our dog Molly — I wear it every day. It’s a tiny, quiet way I carry the ones I miss with me. There’s nothing too small or too silly when it comes to honoring memory.

I also saw this handwriting heart necklace that would be a perfect way to hold a loved one close to your heart.

If You’re Feeling It Too

You’re not alone if this season feels off, complicated, or full of memories that make you ache. You don’t need to force joy, or create perfection. You can let the holidays look different and still find meaning.

In fact, that’s exactly what this season is about for many of us now. New ways to gather. Simpler ways to celebrate. Deeper ways to connect.

During my most didficult times, I find that focusing on just a few small things each day helps give me a sense of steadiness when everything else feels sad or impossible to navigate. It’s become just a place to start again. If that feels like something you might need right now, I put together a simple daily reset guide you can come back to whenever the days feel too difficult. This small method of doing things has changed my days for the better and I’ve been sticking to it.

Start with one small choice. And let that be enough for today.

Similar Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *