Holidays are unwieldy, grinding days for the grieving

In 2011, Easter came early. We buried my daughter, Mercy, a few weeks previous and I felt pummeled by the holiday. How could I celebrate new life and spring and bunnies-delivering-eggs? My heart was still convulsing with loss.

We used a gift certificate at MCL Cafeteria, gathering portions of sweaty ham and tired chocolate silk pie, tucking our meager meal into Styrofoam boxes. The children were fighting, Luke was being difficult, and our meal ended with me hurling my food on the floor and storming out to cry.

Holidays are unwieldy, grinding days for the grieving. And this year is riddled with pain: tens-of-thousands dead, lost jobs and crumpled dreams, ruined relationships, murdered Black bodies. So much loss.

We were not made to bear this alone. Take a moment to consider who you know that has encountered loss. Write down their names. Then, reach out with a text or a call. Drop off a plate of food.

If you don’t know what to say, lead with that: “I don’t even know what to say, but I wanted to let you know that you aren’t alone.”

*This is LinkedIn, so I should probably mention that empathy benefits your bottom line: it cultivates trust, psychological safety and retention.* It is also just one of the most important parts of our shared humanity.