Writing Through Grief: Finding Peace in the Holidays

Last year, the holidays arrived like a storm I wasn’t prepared for. My brother’s absence

wasn’t just a quiet gap at the dinner table—it was a wound that refused to close.

Everything about the season, from the twinkle of the lights to the familiar carols, felt like

an assault on my grief.

The world was celebrating, but I wasn’t ready.

Somewhere between the numbness and the endless tears, I started writing for LITT. At

first, it wasn’t even clear what I was trying to say. It felt messy—a stream of semi

unconscious emotions that I could barely make sense of.

I wrote about him, the things I missed, and the memories that felt too heavy to carry

alone. It wasn’t just for me, though. I began sharing these pieces through this blog for

others who had lost loved ones, hoping that in my pain, someone else might know this

grief and feel seen. Isn’t that what we all truly want? To feel seen.

What I didn’t realize at the time was how much writing would give back to me.

Each word became a small step forward. Not away from my grief, but toward

understanding it and feeling it - unapologetically. Writing about it forced me to sit with

my feelings, to unpack the anger, the sadness, and even the guilt that I hadn’t been

willing to face. Slowly, I discovered that the act of telling my story didn’t just honor

Griffin’s memory—it brought me peace and maybe, just maybe, helped others too!

As the holidays are here again, I feel that familiar sense of loss, but I also feel

something else—a quiet inkling of peace and a little less blur.

I’ve learned that grief and joy can coexist. Griffin is still with me, not in the way I want,

but in the memories I hold close and the words I share with others.

Writing has been my bridge between sadness and hope. It’s taught me to carry my

brother forward. Not as a burden, but as part of the person I’m becoming.

If you’re grieving through the holidays, know this: it’s okay to feel everything at once. No

matter where you are in your grief journey, it’s okay to cry over a song that reminds you

of what you’ve lost or to skip traditions that feel are a bit too hard right now. It’s also

okay to find peace in the small things—a favorite memory, a quiet moment, or a way to

honor your loved one.

This year, I’ll pick out a special ornament for our tree, set a place at the table, reflect

about what he meant to me, and let myself feel everything—the grief, the love, and the

quiet joy of knowing he’s still with me in some ways.

Because grief doesn’t mean the end of connection; it means finding new ways to feel

that connection.

How will you find your peace this holiday season?