It Comes in Waves

Christmas and New Year’s have always been special times for me, and I used to look forward to those days since it meant I would get to visit my grandma. She was born on New Year’s Day, and the holidays have always been about her for me.

However, since my grandmother passed away, holiday celebrations have been especially tough. I know she’s already gone, but I’m not sure if I want to get over it. Grief is a complex and difficult emotion to navigate, and I’m still trying to figure out how to move forward. I miss her even more than usual. I’ve opted out of holiday parties for the past three years because I don’t know how to spend Christmas and New Year’s anymore.

Grief is difficult no matter the time of the year, but holidays magnify that loss, and it’s especially challenging. The joy and celebration that is normally present during this time has been overshadowed by my grief and sadness.

It’s hard being with my family. It’s almost as though my own grief is stifling me more strongly than usual. I fully understand that grief is individualized. It is a unique and personal experience, and it can manifest differently for everyone, even those who have experienced the same loss. But I can’t help but feel alone and stuck. Conversely, spending time with people who aren’t grieving makes me feel more isolated.

I’ve read that some ways to keep my grandma’s spirit close and to honor her are to share stories about her, and keep her memory alive. What should I do if all that’s left are hazy slivers of memories as they fade?

I wished to hear her say goodbye, but as I stood by her hospital bed, I realized it would not be possible. My thoughts raced as I tried to find the words to say goodbye, but my tongue felt heavy and useless. We were unable to exchange even a brief farewell.

I desired a proper parting, and there were times I wondered if it would be a bit easier to move forward if I were able to have that. I know the answer to that now. It wouldn’t have made moving on any easier. I would still long for more time with her and the anguish of missing her would still be as intense as it is now.

I’ve learned that grief is not just a temporary emotional response, but rather a constant presence that evolves and shifts over time. It is both in the present and in the past, and can be fast or slow, changing in intensity and shape as we ourselves change and grow. It is not something that abruptly appears after the loss and then vanishes. Instead, it is a long-term process that can be triggered by reminders, such as holidays. These reminders can bring back intense feelings of pain and grief, even after a significant amount of time has passed.

Every New Year’s Day since her passing has been a day full of sadness, longing and wishing she was still alive. And I know that’s how it’s going to be for the rest of my life. Over time, I have learned that it is important to allow myself to experience all the painful emotions, even as I also experience joy and happiness, even if they are difficult or conflicting.

Grief can be unpredictable, like the ocean. It can feel bearable at times, much like swimming in calm waters. But there are also times when it seems all-consuming and overwhelming, as if I were caught in a violent storm with waves slamming over me. Today, I feel like I am drowning.

Happy birthday, Nanay.
I can’t seem to recall your voice for some time now, but I know I liked hearing you say my name, and I always thought that your laugh was the cutest.
I have completely forgotten your eyes, but I know they sparkled whenever you smiled.
I used to believe that each passing year would make this day easier to bear, but that hasn’t been the case. I love and miss you every single day.