💛 HAPPY HOLIDAYS ?

The holidays are here! It is time for family dinners, christmas cards, festive lights, gift exchanges, and parties.

Our family just made it through our second Thanksgiving without Owen. Last year, we visited friends in New York. This year, we visited a family in Georgia.

We expect people this time of year to be cheerful. Many, however, do exactly what we did last weekend: compartmentalize, smile, push through, and then quietly fall apart once the door closes. It often is hard to know who among us may be struggling. Some are better than others at hiding our pain.

Before the trip, Izzy and I talked about compartmentalization—how good we both are at putting our pain in a box so we can function. There are situations where that’s necessary and protective; but eventually, we have to pull that box out from under the bed. We have to open the box of pain and sit with what’s inside.

On the drive home from Georgia, our “new family unit”—the four of us—fell into an old ritual that Owen and I used to love on car trips: sharing music. Owen and I shared a hip-hop playlist that mixed generations—Owen added Drake and Sleepy Hallow; I countered with Eminem and Run DMC. We sometimes wondered what the original artists would think of us—white, middle-class, suburban. How could we possibly relate to hip-hop? Would they think we were posers? Maybe. But we loved the music anyway.

Changes by Tupac has always been a favorite of mine, but when I heard it this time, that one line cut deeper than it ever had: “That’s just the way it is. Things will never be the same.” We will never have Owen at our dinner table again. We have to accept that, even though our hearts resist it every day.

This holiday season, the reality is that each one of us will encounter:

• Someone who is carrying something heavy burden
• Someone dreading their first holiday without a loved one
• Someone feeling lonely in a crowded room
• Someone pretending they’re fine because they don’t want to burden anyone

Many young people feel this even more intensely. The pressure to appear okay is enormous.

Grief doesn’t respect the calendar. Holidays magnify what’s missing.

This month, I hope we can all slow down enough to notice each other. Reach out. Offer a small kindness. Invite someone in. Authentic connection can’t erase grief, but it can make the load a little lighter. Peace.