Two things you can’t avoid: Death and the Holidays
Photo by Denise Johnson
Two Things You Can’t Avoid: Death & the Holidays
Dec. 27, 2019
It happens every year: While the world adorns itself in tinsel and twinkling light, many of us feel dimmed by loss. The data shows that the holidays are the most common time of year to die, so chances are, you or someone you know is grieving. And feeling like you can’t gin up the holiday cheer can make the holidays a lonely, alienating time.
That’s certainly true for Dr. BJ Miller, and Shoshana Berger, authors of A Beginner’s Guide to the End, who share their experiences with death and the holidays and offer some tips for how to cope.
Q: What has your experience been around death and the holidays?
BJ: The holidays have been pretty loaded for our family. We lost my sister, Lisa, in December, and her birthday was in December, too. The last time we all saw each other was Thanksgiving. And the anniversary of my accident is just after Thanksgiving… So, this time of year is loaded, as it is for so many families in one way or another.
More than any one thing, I suppose, to me, the holidays indicate a period of mourning. I’ve come to appreciate this cause for contemplation. Over time, it’s no longer a matter of sorrow vs. gratitude; instead, sorrow and gratitude have come together in this really honest way.
Holidays used to be tense times for us as a family. We used to love to fight, and the more public the better. Oh my, lots of memories there. Now, however, the holidays are mostly serene, with a touch of sorrow. And that feels right. We do find ourselves pretty mellow and solemn, for the most part, sometimes a little hyper-critical. But it’s not a hard leap to go from nostalgia to appreciation for all that we had with Lisa, etcetera, and all that we still have. So we move amidst sorrow and gratitude, and we do it as a family, and mostly unspoken.
It’s like your nerve endings get sensitive, including to the sweet stuff. And hopefully, with a little effort, this period arrives at some forgiveness and clearing for another year. Pain has proven important for us to feel, and important to let go of when we can.
Shoshana: My dad died week of Thanksgiving. It feels like everyone in my life goes in the three month window of November through January. Just this week I got a text from the mother of one of my best college friends saying he’d died from glioblastoma. This is going to be a very hard holiday for that family. He has a 12-year-old child.
Christmas is a risk factor for people. There are holiday spikes for most major disease groups and across demographic groups, with the exception of children. (Maybe belief in a beneficent bearded man who delivers exactly what you always wanted really does matter.) For adults, I think there’s an unconscious choice being made: Either you’ll show up again for this holiday, or you’ll allow your family to gather together without you. It’s these two different instincts. This is part of the mystery and universalism of the human condition—we act in ways we aren’t always conscious of.
It always takes me by surprise. I’ll get from my sister right before Thanksgiving, saying “Tomorrow’s the anniversary." Or I’ll be driving somewhere and remember, “Oh ya, this is the day." It’ll be in the middle of the total chaos of traveling, preparing to host people, and I think, “How the $*@&! am I going to get all of this done…”
This time of year, the mind is so busy, it’s hard to remember to slow down and hold space to remember. So for me the holidays are always a poignant and bittersweet moment. It helps a lot that the holidays are a time when my family is going to be together. Otherwise, I’d feel so alone. It’s helpful to be able to bring it up at Thanksgiving dinner and have everyone acknowledge it, and be together in it.
Q: Are there any rituals, or special things you do, to remember your loved ones during the holidays?
BJ: For us, the closest thing to a ritual has been about not getting in the way of feelings. Not getting gummed up. There are plenty of feelings and they tend to move if you let them be; don’t try too hard to force them in or out of yourself.
Around this time of year I’m more prone to use candles around the house; dim light in general. I like to get into the nadir of the solstice. The lack of light outside moves me inward. I think of my sister, my family and friends. Everything that I, specifically, have gotten to know.
Thinking on this question for a moment, I realize there are periods where I won’t eat much—not deliberately—and then I’ll engorge. It’s interesting to watch the relationship of grief and the body and the material world. No doubt that’s much to do with the rhythm of holiday parties, and restaurant closures too, but maybe there’s also something to that as a seasonal ritual.
Shoshana: This is where religion can be handy. The Jews have a tradition of lighting a 24-hour memorial candle that’s left to burn. It goes the entire day and night of the anniversary. Every year I light that 24-hour candle.
Another tradition that I like is Yom Kippur, the Jewish New Year, which falls in September and October. During Yom Kippur, you look back at the year, thinking about who you were as a person in the world. How you did right, how you could have done better.
There’s a kind of reckoning that happens, where you think about who you are in the world and apologize to those you hurt, after which you’re sealed in the Book of Life as someone still participating in life. I love that as a memorial and anniversary. It makes me feel the responsibility to continue living in the world, as a good and ethical human.
I’m not super religious, but it’s still meaningful to me.
Q: What’s your shortlist of things TO do, and things NOT to do, to care for yourself during this time of year?
BJ: My advice is to contemplate, reflect, feel, and get out of your own way. Let yourself, do not rush out of it. The holidays are a period—a season—not a single moment. An experience, not a transaction.
If I really do this, by the New Year, I’m typically sick of wallowing, and therefore I’m good to go. I can move forward again.
Shoshana: First, be honest with where you’re at. This is a chipper and cheery time. The Christmas carols are on an eternal loop. People don’t want to talk about sad stuff, and people are not in a space where they’re going to go there easily. Yet, you may be in the trench. So it’s important to be honest with yourself.
Instead of saying, "I’m going to power through it and have the best holiday season ever," just have your close people around you, to whom you can openly say, “This is a tough time of year for me, I need support.” You don’t have to plaster on a cryogenically frozen Christmas smile . Show up as yourself, wherever you are.
Second, give your friends a warning shot. Letting them know this is a tough time of year for you can allow you to be where you’re at and be OK with it. Even if you’re 10 years out, it can still be a triggering time.
Another thing I like to do, is instead of thinking of the negative side of holiday consumerism, I’ll incorporate a sense of gratitude for what it represents to me. It may seem cheesy, but I like to think, “This is what I make money for— to shower people with gifts and delicious foods, and to travel to see them." Showering loved ones with giving is how I show love and gratitude to my community.
Q: What can people do to care for their loved ones who are grieving?
Bj: Part of the grotesqueness of the modern holiday season, and why we used to argue so much, is the foil it represents— the contrasts of grief and cheer. Everyone seems so happy together with all their smiles and nog. If you can genuinely get there, great. But a lot of us just can’t, and then all that glitter is blinding.
If you are in the throes of grief, watching all that forced happiness can be extra alienating. You become intensely aware of how not happy you are.
Note to everyone else: this is why the holidays really are a time for genuine kindness and giving.
Shoshana: I like to send grieving friends texts at random times to tell them that I love them. I’ll say, “This is a devastating time, and you must be lost in the face of memories. I’m here for you.”
Another helpful thing is to take that person out of a family gathering situation and take them for a walk. Get them outside, into nature.
Or you could go over to someone’s house on a holiday night, maybe the night before or after the family party, and bring a bottle of wine and binge watch TV with them. It’s the small gestures. Let them know that you remember that they are in a memory. They may be in a trance.
Anne Lamott talks about the mental trance of self-pity.. The trance says: “I’m so alone in the world, why did this happen to me, I’m so sad while everyone else is so happy.” Trances are hard to break, but there are a few ways to do it. Ask a friend to call you, say things to you like, “You’re not alone, I’m here.Let’s go to the movies." Or, “Let’s go get a few tubs of ice cream and watch all of “Girls” in one sitting.”
Another powerful antidote: Look up at the sky, remember that we are just specks, and everyone going through this. That can be really helpful.
BJ: Both for our grieving selves and for each other, it’s important to remember that in order to get to the rebirth, to that gratitude and renewal, there’s a sorrowful road you need to hoe. You can’t hop straight to renewal. For the person grieving and their friends, hold space for that whole process. It’s hard in a society that is uncomfortable with grief, when grief is a force that won’t be rushed.
Shoshana: And as we say in the book, just show up for people. We have a long chapter dedicated to grief, and a big thing to remember is that the grieving person may not know what he or she needs. Instead of saying, “What can I do for you?” and make them think of one more thing, you could answer the question yourself and bring them a nice hot meal. Small gestures are felt and appreciated. Comfort food, sharing photos of the person who died, and helping the person get time away are all helpful things you can do, and you can read more about them in chapter 21. :)