The holidays can be beautiful… and they can also be incredibly hard.
In May of 2024, we lost my husband’s daughter to kidney disease. Just six weeks later, we lost her husband to a drug overdose. In a matter of weeks, two young children lost both of their parents. From that moment on, my husband and I became “Mom and Dad” again to our grandchildren who were just six and eleven at the time.
The last year and a half has been one of the hardest seasons our family has ever walked through. We’ve been grieving our daughter. We’ve been grieving our son-in-law. And at the same time, we’ve been learning how to walk alongside two young hearts navigating a grief that no child should ever have to carry.
One of the most difficult parts is that grief doesn’t follow a timeline. It doesn’t disappear just because the calendar changes or because time has passed. I learned that long before this season.
My grandmother passed away in 2016 — almost ten years ago now — and I still grieve her. There are moments when I reach for my phone without thinking, only to remember I can’t call her anymore. Sometimes I’ll be out and about and catch the smell of her perfume, and it stops me in my tracks. The tears still come. And that’s when I’m reminded: grief doesn’t mean you’re stuck — it means you loved deeply.
That same truth is now part of our everyday life with the kids. We never know what will bring their grief to the surface. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it rushes in all at once.
Last night was one of those moments.
We were sitting together watching Home Alone 2. Our grandson had picked it out. Everything felt warm and normal until the very end of the movie, when the little boy stood in front of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center and said something like, “I don’t want anything else. I just want my mom for Christmas.”
Immediately, our granddaughter began to cry. She told me how much she missed her mom.
And in that moment, nothing mattered but holding her. We gave extra cuddles. We talked about good memories. We let the tears come. There was no fixing it — only loving her through it.
Last Christmas, “Santa” brought the kids something very special: reindeers from Build-A-Bear. We found a recording of their mom on Facebook saying, “I love you,” and placed it inside their reindeers. It’s one small way for them to feel close to her — and for us to keep her love alive in their hearts.
We don’t hide emotions in our home. We talk about them. We cry together. We remember together. We acknowledge that we are sad. But we also gently remind one another that we can’t stay sad forever. Little by little, we learn how to live again — carrying our love with us.
Grief during the holidays feels heavier. The music, the traditions, the movies — they all bring memories to the surface. But we are learning that joy and grief can live in the same space. That it’s okay to laugh again. That healing doesn’t mean forgetting.
And most of all, we are learning that God walks with us through every part of it.
If you are carrying grief this holiday season — whether it is fresh or decades old — I hope you know this:
You are not alone.
Your tears are seen.
Your memories matter.
And God is close to your broken heart.
📖 Scripture for This Week
Psalm 34:18 (NIV)
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
🙏 Closing Prayer
Lord, You see every hurting heart, every tear that falls, and every memory that rises during this season. Be near to those who are grieving today. Wrap them in Your peace when the sadness feels overwhelming. Help us to remember with love, to mourn with honesty, and to live with hope. Thank You for walking with us through every season of sorrow and every step of healing. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Thank you for pausing with me today.
If the holidays feel heavy for you, please know you are held, you are understood, and you are not walking this road alone. 💛
Moments of Devotion 
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