11/24/2025
Holidays why you be so mean. Why you be picking on me. I'm doing the best I can. I just wish I could cry in private, when I want to, on a schedule, and not have tears welling up in my eyes unexpectedly ALL THE DANG TIME. I'll get there but when........
If you’ve been around here a while, you know I’m not big on sugarcoating the hard stuff.
So let’s just call it what it is…the Sunday before a big holiday.
And it’s always reminds me that my heart has a big dent in it.
That mix of emptiness and anticipation sneaks up on me every year around this time.
There’s this quiet moment when I realize the house is missing its usual feel, not just the noise, but the spirit of the person who always anchored the day.
It’s thinking about, yet again, setting the table for a feast and noticing one chair is empty.
Not because someone forgot to show up…but because someone’s not coming back.
Here’s the thing…that emptiness feels full, if that makes any sense.
It’s the kind of empty that’s loud in your mind.
And then comes the anticipation, not the warm-and-fuzzy kind, but the ‘brace yourself’ kind.
You know the one…wondering if you’ll cry, or if you’ll just make it through without falling apart in front of everybody.
And in those moments, between setting the table and cleaning up, I try to remind myself it’s okay to carry it all. It’s okay to sometimes be happy even if I’m also feeling sad.
Because grief is strange like that. It rattles around in your brain and clouds everything that used to feel normal. It makes everything feel different. It makes everything feel hard.
But is this Sunday really any different from any other day?
Nope.
It’s just another day where I’ll figure out once again how to survive grief.
One quiet, messy…and somehow hopeful moment at a time.
Gary Sturgis – Surviving Grief