On a One Horse Griefy Sleigh

On a One Horse Griefy Sleigh: Grieving Through the Holidays

Written by: Owner & Founder Camille Lester-Riley LCPC, LMHC

Happy Holidays, I am hoping this blog can meet you, wherever it may find you. I am hoping warm, tucked in, resting, or making steps to do the aforementioned. Grief and the concept of maneuvering life while clung tightly by it, has been on my heart heavy these past few weeks.

This is my 4th Christmas without my mom earth-side. Christmas is a special holiday for me; one that is filled with warmth, tradition, and the nostalgic feeling of ‘home.’ Christmas has always been a big deal in my family—my mom made it special, beyond words. I remember many Christmas Eve’s counting gifts with my brother upwards of 30+ gifts each under the tree. We gleefuly wrote the numbers in the corner deciding which we were going to open first. At the center of it all was my mother, the maker of the magic. She made sure we always had the exact same amount under the tree. She was so thoughtful and intentional that way. As an adult, (I can honor, it was never about the number of gifts) but the fact that it was a special time to be thought of, loved on, and surprised! That realization that “…wow you listened to me on that random Tuesday in July when I expressed interest in this… “or “you knew I would need a new pair of wool socks” …. the you see me. you saw me. you love me. all sentiments that sum up the best parts of the holidays for me.

My mom was one of seven girls. Born and raised in East St Louis, Illinois. A child of humble means. For her, a big, warm, and loving Christmas was always something she dreamed about. When she created her own family, she was able to put into action. She gifted us the magic she always yearned for herself.  Full circle moment. 

Christmas with my side of family was an annual tradition. When I began seriously dating my now husband and into our marriage Christmas was always home, in Milwaukee. Until she died, the summer of 2022. Sparkling grape juice. Gifts. Letters to Santa. Flocked trees. Stockings stuffed to the brim. Good china set on the dining table. Candles. Warmth. Love. Thoughtfulness. Home.

Gone.

This is the first year I am not feeling completely lost and disconnected from the holiday. The first year I’m curious about trying new tethers of traditions.  

Here’s an assortment of wisdom i’ve gathered over these last few years: 

Give Yourself Time 

It’s ok to not immediately feel connected to the holidays. Grief comes in waves. It also comes in tornados and tsunamis the vicious ones that swallow you whole and then you wake up, in tact, dry, and at your desk typing an email. The first few Christmases without her were, well, hard. What about the traditions? How do I make it special for my child? What do I do next? Nothing felt right. Give yourself grace. Things are different and at this point, this "‘different’ feeling is your new baseline.

This is all normal.

Give yourself time. Do what you feel like you have capacity for and try again the next year. There will always be time. Give yourself TIME.

Feel the Feels 

It’s ok to not be okay. Let me say it again for the folks in the back… ITS OK TO NOT BE OKAY!!! You don’t have to rush yourself out of or through the pits of sadness and longing. It really sucks to lose someone you love; there is no fast track out of feeling into that truth.

Reimagine what could be Possible 

At times the weight of holding loss and grief is also holding onto the pressure of being/doing/creating the same magic our beloved did or would have.. That standing over the bowl, tasting the recipe over and over, adding, sweetening, stirring mixing… “its just not right!” Their magic is what lit up the room, what warmed our bellies, what made our eyes twinkle. What came natural for them can be a mountian to climb for us. Take the pressure off of yourself to get it perfectly right or just like they would have. The gap in between of what is and what was is where you can allow yourslef to feel into the loss of their presence, their recipes. their wisdom, their voice…. their magic.

What traditions were important? How can you bring them in with your own twist? 

What remains important for me:

Ensuring I still make Christmas cookies on Christmas eve and leave a letter out for Santa. Summer sausage and cheese while opening gifts; dont ask why, it was always cut and prepped every Christmas morning, its an annual tradition! Lastly, opening up one stocking gift on Christmas Eve. Honoring these traditions with my family is honoring the magic of my mother and what she created for me.

New traditions I am putting in place: Christmas Eve pics with Santa, BLACK Santa to be specific :) Planning an easy but cozy crockpot Christmas meal that can be elevated with delicious sides. Thinking an annual pot roast? We will see! Hosting holiday parties at our home. There is something so special about being surrounded by family and chosen family making memories together. I will be taking any pressure off to be or do, and just rest. Lastly, speaking her name. Making it a point to bring her up. to laugh with my husband reminiscing, recalling memories, and invoking her soul into the day. 

I hope you aren’t part of the dead moms club, if you are, I am sending so much care and warmth your way. Maybe you’re a member of the dead brother, dead sister, dead grandmother, dead pet, dead ____ club. Whichever, we are all grieving in our own way.

We are in this together. I see you. You aren’t alone—give yourself time, feel the feels, reimagine what is possible. 

If you need someone to talk to about your relationship to your beloved, your relationship to grief, your relationship to the holidays… and anything else in between. We are here. Please reach out and let’s get your journey started.

With so so so so much light to warm these dark eves,

C