Ampersand Answers: Holiday Grieving

“When my husband died suddenly, my friend Marilyn came over with a bucket, soap and rubber gloves and said, ‘I’m going to clean your bathroom.’ And then she did. No ‘call me if you need anything.’ No asking me to figure anything out—because I couldn’t figure anything out. Theresa Miller, Milwaukee 

Excerpted from a Well Column by Jancee Dunn in The New York Times
“The Small Gestures That Help Us Navigate Grief”
December 20, 2025

The Question:  

How do I deal with grief during the holidays? Especially when others aren’t grieving? 

&mpersand Answers: 

I know grief seems like an odd choice for Christmas Day, but hold on a sec. Have you ever been in the midst of grieving during a time or in a place where others aren’t? It’s hard. 

When my mother died, I had a similar experience with a friend of hers to the one that appears above. Her friend Peggy called me and asked, “When does the recycling go out?” 

I didn’t know much when my mom died, but that I did know. I told Peggy, and she replied that she’d come take out the recycling and bring dinner for that night, too. 

When I hung up with her, I (for once) didn’t weep. I felt better. Something needed was getting done, taken care of, by someone who cared. Even if it was just the recycling. 

If you’re the one in grief during these holy-days or you know someone who is, reach out, if you can. Be specific, if you can. If not, reach out to the one who is grieving to offer presence. Yes, that’s all. Just being together. 

When I was in seminary, a fellow student had a husband die out of nowhere. She’d planned a mission trip, and her friends convinced her he would have wanted her to go, and so she went. Every time she told someone that her husband had died, the person held onto her arms and wailed to the heavens. They were sharing the burden of her grief. 

When you’re present, either with another, or even with yourself, you’re offering to bear some of the burden of the grief for the time you are together. There is no greater kindness. 

Blessèd holy-days to you and yours, and if you are grieving, imagine I am sitting right by you, holding the sorrow and the missing with you.