When Christmas is Tough
/Yesterday I ran into a woman widowed within the last year at a store. Her son and I went to school together and I was happy to see her but concerned about how she was doing. Another friend whose mother died nearly a month ago and I went to see a play together on the weekend. Another friend is separated and heading towards divorce. I’m also mindful of those in the congregation where I preach who have recent losses as well.
There are many posts about how grief is compounded at this time that is supposed to be so magical and happy. A number of churches have “Blue Christmas” services to offer people who are struggling with loss a space accepting of the variety of emotions they are experiencing. Some communities offer a non-denominational or even secular opportunity for the same.
We can struggle with how to acknowledge those among us who we know are having a tough time. We can pull back not wanting a damper on our holidays and merry-making. We don’t want to say the wrong thing, we don’t want to impose, we don’t want to make people feel worse than they already do. I’m getting better at supporting the grieving, almost out of necessity, and I’m certainly no expert, but here are things that I have found helpful (when I’ve been struggling myself or trying to be there for someone else):
Acknowledge the loss. Don’t be afraid to name the person who died and mention how much they are missed. If it’s a relationship that has ended, recognize that there is a hole in terms of not just their ex but their friends and family who normally were part of Christmas. This grief is very different and naming the person may or may not be helpful - when in doubt ask.
Give space. Grief is tiring and the temptation can be for the person to keep up the facade of making Christmas as great as it ever was. Think of what times of the holiday may be particularly difficult. Offer open invitations but let the person decide what they can handle. Don’t expect them to host or bring a dish or a gift. Be there for them with no strings attached.
Listen more, talk less. Whatever loss we have experienced is not theirs. Each one is unique and needs to be expressed on their terms without lots of helpful anecdotes of what we’ve gone through. The more we listen, the more room is created for moving through this murky time and for the person to discover what they need for themselves and what questions they may need to ask.
Be available but with boundaries. Take care of yourself too - don’t allow your own commitments to get railroaded even if your desire is to support someone who is hurting. You may offer a few times as options for meeting for coffee but also mention when you are busy with other things. People need to find their own way through their grief and as hard as solitude can be, it can also help sometimes.
Let them choose. For some people, a hug is a hugely healing thing, and for others it is very uncomfortable. For some going to a party is a welcome distraction, and for others it is terrifying and exhausting. For some meeting for coffee is a great out, and for others a phone call is easier to handle. Put the ball in their court and go with it.
Bear in mind their family. They are likely not the only ones hurting, and family can be tired from supporting the person struggling the most. Say hi and ask how they all are doing. Perhaps bring over something they all can share - a casserole, tin of cookies, jigsaw puzzle or board game.
Sometimes the greatest gift we can offer someone is our presence. This Christmas, ask God to open your eyes and remind you of those who are having a tough time and perhaps are overwhelmed by the enormous expectations of the season and the pain of loss. Pray that God will allow you to reach out and be a lifeline in an appropriate way.
May we be the face and light of Christ in someone else’s darkness even as we celebrate Jesus’ birth.