Holding Gratitude and Grief at the Same Time

The holidays arrive every year, whether we are ready or not.

They come with lights and music, expectations and traditions, and a relentless cheer that assumes everyone is whole, gathered, and overflowing with joy. For many of us, that assumption misses the mark. Sometimes by a lot.

This season, I find myself deeply grateful for what I have and acutely aware of who is missing.

I miss my husband.
I miss my father.

Both truths exist at the same time, and neither cancels the other out.

Gratitude Does Not Erase Grief

There is a quiet pressure during the holidays to “focus on the good,” as if gratitude is supposed to act like emotional duct tape. Be thankful enough and the cracks will disappear. But that is not how loss works.

Gratitude does not erase grief.
It simply shares the space.

I am grateful for my children, for their laughter and resilience, for the ways they carry pieces of the people we lost. I am grateful for friends who understand that showing up does not always require words. I am grateful for some semblance of stability, for a roof over my head, for the ability to keep going even on days when my heart feels heavier than usual.

And still, I miss my husband’s presence. The way he anchored our family. The way he made the ordinary feel secure. The way his absence is loudest during moments that used to be shared without thinking.

I miss my father’s voice. His guidance (good and bad). The sense that someone older and steadier was still watching out for me, even when I was doing the watching for everyone else.

Being grateful does not mean I miss them less.
It means I am strong enough to acknowledge both.

The Empty Chair Is Still Part of the Table

Loss has a way of rearranging the holidays. Traditions shift. Some fall away completely. Others remain but feel different, quieter, or oddly unfinished.

There are moments when the empty chair is impossible to ignore.

But pretending it is not there does not make the season easier. For me, acknowledging that absence has become part of honoring the people I loved. They mattered. They still matter. Their impact did not end because their lives did.

Grief during the holidays is not a failure of resilience. It is evidence of love.

Redefining What “Strong” Looks Like

Strength during the holidays does not always look like hosting, decorating, or pushing through with a smile. Sometimes it looks like saying no. Sometimes it looks like simplifying plans. Sometimes it looks like letting yourself feel the ache instead of fighting it.

It can also look like gratitude for what remains.

Not gratitude as a performance. Not gratitude as a comparison to “someone who has it worse.” Just quiet acknowledgment of what still brings meaning, even in the midst of loss.

I am grateful for the lessons my father taught me that I now pass on.
I am grateful for the life my husband and I built, even though it ended far too soon.
I am grateful that love does not disappear just because the people we love are gone.

If You Are Carrying Both This Season

If you are heading into the holidays with a full heart and a heavy one, you are not doing it wrong.

You are allowed to miss the people who should be here.
You are allowed to appreciate what you have without minimizing what you lost.
You are allowed to experience joy and sadness in the same breath.

That is not weakness. That is honesty.

This season, I am not choosing between gratitude and grief. I am carrying both. Carefully. Intentionally. With respect for the love that shaped me and the life I am still trying to build.

Sometimes that is the most genuine holiday practice of all.