Christmas can stir up a thousand emotions — gratitude, joy, nostalgia — but also deep sorrow for what has changed. If this Christmas feels quieter, heavier, or lonelier, or if you find Christmas hard when grieving, please know this: you’re not alone. I understand, I’ve been there, too.
I remember my first Christmas without my mum with painful clarity. She had died nine months earlier, and a few months before Christmas, I knew I couldn’t face a traditional Christmas. Not when everything felt altered beyond recognition. Christmas is hard when grieving, and even the ordinary things – lights, music, traditions – can feel impossible to bear.
Read also, ‘What Grievers Really Need: How to Support Others and Yourself Through Grief‘
So I made a decision: I would get as far away as possible. Instead of cold and snow, I wanted warmth and distance. A place where nothing looked like the festive season I knew. We packed our bags and flew nearly 6,000 miles away.
But here’s what I learned, and what I want to gently share with you:
Grief doesn’t stay behind when you travel. Even in the sun, tears found me – on the plane, on the beach, in the hotel room, even in restaurants. I learned quickly that no matter how far I ran, grief travelled with me. And when we returned home on Christmas Eve and spent Christmas Day with my in-laws, it was waiting for me there, too.
Yet, in the middle of the pain… something unexpected happened:
small glimmers appeared.
A hug when I needed it.
A quiet conversation about my mum.
Moments alone with God when He felt like the only one who understood my tears.
Midnight carols at the Abbey.
A warm meal made with love.
Read also, ‘What Grievers Find Helpful: How to Get Through Christmas Grief‘
These didn’t erase the grief, but they gently sat beside it. And they taught me something important. Something I want to offer you if your Christmas is going to be hard this year due to grief:
The anticipation can often be worse than the day itself.
And you are capable of holding more than one truth at the same time.
You can carry sorrow and still notice joy.
Feel grief and still accept comfort.
You can love the person you lost and still allow yourself moments of peace.
Allowing these to coexist isn’t a betrayal.
Maybe you’re not in a place where you believe this is possible yet. Perhaps you can’t imagine a glimmer showing up in the heaviness this season. Maybe you’re hurting from loss, illness, separation, or the fading of what once was. And while everyone else seems to celebrate, you may feel empty, or angry, or numb. I’ve felt the unfairness, too. I didn’t want to see others celebrating with their mums when mine wasn’t here. I didn’t want a Christmas I couldn’t share with her. All I wanted for Christmas was to hide, to sleep through the season until it was over.
Read also, ‘20 Inspirational Quotes for Dealing With Grief and Loss‘
So, if Christmas feels lonely, heavy, or too bright for your hurting heart, please hear me: there is no wrong way to feel right now.
Your Christmas doesn’t have to sparkle.
Your heart doesn’t have to be merry.
And your grief doesn’t make you wrong or put out of place.
There is space for your sadness.
There is room for your tenderness.
And if gratitude feels impossible this season, that’s okay, too. Don’t beat yourself up, God understands. And I can hold hope for you until you’re able to hold it again. One day you will, even if that day feels far away. Because when Christmas is hard when grieving, gentleness is not just allowed – it’s necessary.
If this season looks nothing like the ones you remember, I’ve created a free guide that might help. It’s designed for anyone who finds Christmas painful after loss – not a cure, but a companion for those navigating the festive season with a grieving heart. It’s a reminder that it’s okay to move slowly, to rest, and to feel exactly what you feel.
You can download your free guide, “WHEN CHRISTMAS LOOKS DIFFERENT: A Gentle Guide for Grieving Hearts,” here.
Have a gentle Christmas.
With warmth and understanding,
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Beautiful, Katy! I have journeyed through your words of wisdom and wholeheartedly agree that these are the way forward through the deepest valleys. Thank you for creating such a lovely guide. I pray it helps so many who ache and may not have a mentor helping them navigate the grief.