Death and the Holidays — A Survival Guide

I watched a dear friend bury her dad last month. He passed away the afternoon of New Year’s Eve.

There’s never a good time to lose a family member or close friend. But deaths during the holidays ratchet up the intensity.

I’ve had some family experience with illness and death against an endless soundtrack of Christmas jingles. It’s jarring. Everyone else is rushing to the mall to pick out stocking stuffers while you drive to Staples to print out funeral programs. A parallel universe.

Here a few tips for surviving the funeral week:

• Find time to grieve alone. I cried nearly every time I got in the car to drive to the hospital, funeral home or florist. The holiday commercials and carols didn’t help — ever noticed how sad those can be? “Through the years, we all will be together / If the fates allow.” So cheery.
• Unplug. Give someone your phone the day of the burial service. It’s amazing how many family members will call the grieving spouse/parent/child to ask for directions. It’s called Google Maps, honey. Use it.
• Let people help you. Delegate whatever you can: Friends can pick up relatives at the airport, neighbors can housesit during the wakes, family can organize the post-service meal. The funeral home is also staffed with experts who have seen it all. Lean on them.
• Write everything down. I had two notebooks that I later labeled “Work” and “Life” — my client notebook and my funeral notebook. You won’t remember what clothes the funeral director asks you to bring for the deceased. You’ll recall the name of that favorite — or dreaded — hymn. You’ll forget to order enough death certificates. You need to write it all down.
• Don’t engage. People will say really insensitive things with the best of intentions. Neighbors and old friends will comment on how good the deceased looks in the coffin. They will speculate on who’s next to go. (Remember that for older generations, a funeral is a social gathering; they don’t get out much.) Family will bring up that decades-long feud. Siblings will stir the pot. Let it all go.
• Be good to yourself. It’s ok to succumb to wine, bad TV, ice cream, sleeping pills — preferably all at the same time. Just don’t make it a daily thing, or you’ll be facing a whole new basket of issues on the other side. And if you just quit your bad habit, try not to slide. You certainly have good reasons to do so. But if you can make it through the next few weeks without picking up that cigarette, or calling that no-good-for-you ex-boyfriend, nothing can break you.
• No blame. No “if only” I had been a better friend, parent, child, spouse, neighbor. “If only” I had done this, or not said that… don’t go there. Now is not the time to beat yourself up. Your only goal is to get through these initial weeks without totally losing your sh**. The tickets for that guilt trip won’t expire.
• Cook the turkey — or don’t. Maybe you crave some semblance of normalcy. Maybe you need a break from writing the eulogy. Maybe you want Thanksgiving with all the trimmings, maybe you want TV and takeout. Whatever makes you happy, do it. (See above: No blame, no guilt.)
• Be patient. Grief is a process and there are no shortcuts. You’ll shuffle around like a grief zombie. Your face will be a big puffy crying mess. The oddest thing will trigger memories. You won’t sleep. You’ll forget things. You’ll take long detours around that hospital or funeral home. It’s all OK. And it WILL get better. (See above: Let people help you.)

Why now?

You may wonder why I’m writing this in February. But the days, weeks and months of a family member’s illness can be all-consuming and fairly solitary. Then funeral planning is a blur of people, phone calls and logistics. A lot of moving parts and a lot of emotions. Through sheer force of will, and maybe a few cocktails, one gets through the week.

Then suddenly it’s over. Everyone leaves and the grieving are expected to move on with life. Which can be daunting.

So if you know someone who lost a loved one during the holidays, now may be the time to reach out. Invite them to dinner. Get them out of the house, even for a silly errand. And if they decline, wait awhile then send a card. Text them. Keep in touch. Ask again. It’s lovely to know that — even if you can barely manage to get dressed to face the day — a friend is thinking about you.