Navigating Christmas and New Year as a Bereaved Parent
For bereaved parents, even after many years have passed, Christmas can be a very difficult time of year. The socially expected feelings of excitement and anticipation can feel more like dread and anxiety. It is a time when feelings of isolation and disconnection can be made worse by the messages in the media about fun and family and togetherness as these underline areas that are so painful for us.
There’s No Right Way to Do This
Some bereaved parents say that they just sort of disconnect and wait for Christmas to pass and I understand that. If that's what you need, that's absolutely valid. Other parents choose to go away for the duration to sunnier climes, putting physical distance between themselves and the expectations of the season. Many choose to follow the traditional Christmas activities but struggle with some aspects of this. Some create entirely new rituals that feel more authentic to their grief.
For some of us Christmas was tricky enough already with the complicated family dynamics and unrealistic expectations. Now, with the added weight of grief, it can feel utterly impossible to navigate.
What I want you to know is that however you choose to approach this time is the right way for you. You don't owe anyone a "good" Christmas. You don't need to protect other people from your grief. And you absolutely have permission to do things differently from how you've always done them, or how your family expects, or how society suggests you should.
In this post I would like to address how to make some changes in your approach to planning your Christmas and New Year—but only if that feels right for you. If disconnecting and waiting for it to pass is your strategy, I see you and I honour that choice.
Boundaries Are About Self-Care and Communication
Boundaries are about knowing, communicating and respecting what is OK for you and what is OK for others. Setting boundaries is an act of self-care, not selfishness.
I find that what is OK for me is a shifting thing when it comes to Christmas and so I need to make sure that my family members know when things change. What felt manageable last year might feel impossible this year, or vice versa. This is normal. Grief doesn't follow a linear path and neither do our needs around it.
When you are invited to take part in something that you don't feel comfortable with, for whatever reason, you can say "No. Thank you for asking but, no, that won't work for me." The other person might ask why and whether you choose to explain your reasoning is up to you but don't get pulled into trying to justify your choice. You are not selfish or antisocial or any other accusation that you might fear might be thrown at you. In setting out your own preferences and boundaries you are taking very appropriate care of yourself. Our preferences and boundaries don't have to make sense to others and theirs don't have to make sense to us.
A Story About Learning This the Hard Way
On the first New Year's Eve after my son died, I was alone at home. I had been invited to various gatherings but that was not what I wanted. I had EastEnders lined up to watch, I had the food I wanted to eat and I had a small pile of books (an important grief companion for me) from my local alternative bookshop. I was secure and handling my grief and trauma as best I could.
The early part of the evening went OK and then suddenly a small group of local friends arrived at the door with a tray of smoked salmon canapés and a considerable amount of alcohol in their systems.
"We couldn't let you be alone," they cried.
They ruined my peace, disturbed EastEnders (a bad, bad thing in those days before catch-up TV) and frankly, really pissed me off and led me to a sleepless night, especially the early hours of the morning when my phone kept going off with HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! texts. They did that through kindness and care—I know that. I learned that I needed to be much clearer with friends and family and I have been practising and developing that clarity since.
These days I say, "Thank you, but no, I don't do gatherings, I prefer being alone on New Year's Eve. I would love to chat to you soon though—how about next weekend?" (and the last bit only if that is true!)
Of course, I also need to be willing to listen and respond gracefully to other people's boundaries, whatever these are. For example, one couple I know like to socialise with family members of all ages on Christmas Eve but spend Christmas Day free to do their own thing without any children around and they have communicated this clearly ahead of time.
Some Practical Strategies
Beyond setting boundaries, there are other ways to make this time more bearable:
Create new rituals. Perhaps lighting a candle at a specific time, visiting a meaningful place, or doing something your child loved. These don't have to be solemn—they can be joyful celebrations of your child's life if that feels right.
Manage your exposure. You don't have to watch every Christmas film or listen to every carol. You can turn off the radio in shops, avoid certain places, limit social media. This isn't avoidance, it's self-preservation.
Have an exit strategy. If you do attend gatherings, plan how you'll leave if it becomes too much. Park where you can get away easily. Have a code word with someone who can help facilitate your departure. Give yourself permission to leave without explanation.
Talk to your family beforehand. If you're spending time with family, it can help to have a conversation before the day about what you need. "I might need to step away sometimes," or "I'd like us to acknowledge Sam at some point," or "Please don't tell me to cheer up or that he wouldn't want me to be sad."
Accept that some days will just be difficult. No amount of planning or self-care will make grief go away. Some days you'll just need to get through. That's OK too.
Reflecting on What You Need
I've found it helpful to think through some questions ahead of time. You don't need to have all the answers, and your answers might change, but considering these can help reduce some of the anxiety that comes with not knowing what to expect or what you want.
Around Connection:
How would you like to connect with your important people?
Are there people you definitely want to see, or people you definitely want to avoid?
Do you need to check out anything about their expectations if you are planning to spend time with others?
Around Acknowledgement:
What would you, personally, like to do to acknowledge your daughter or son who has died?
What would you like others to join you in doing to acknowledge your child?
What would you like to request others to do to acknowledge your child?
Some families light a candle together, some make a toast, some lay a place at the table, some prefer not to make any formal acknowledgement at all. Whatever feels right for you is right.
Around Support:
Is there any support that you would like to have from others and how will you request this?
Who are your safe people if you need to talk or cry or rage?
Remember that asking for support is not a burden. It's allowing people who care about you to show up for you.
Around Self-Care:
What will you, personally, do to take care of yourself?
What are your warning signs that you're struggling and what will you do when you notice them?
This might be having escape routes planned, having a friend on speed dial, or simply giving yourself permission to spend Boxing Day in your pyjamas watching films and eating whatever you want.
Around Invitations:
How will you respond if you receive invitations to spend time with others?
Are there any invitations that you want to make to others?
You might want to prepare a simple response for unexpected invitations: "Thank you for thinking of me. I'm not sure yet what I'll be up to but I'll let you know if I'm able to join you."
A Final Word
Planning ahead can help reduce some of the anxiety around Christmas, but please remember that you have permission to change your mind at any point. What you thought you could manage might turn out to be too much. Plans you made might not feel right on the day. You are allowed to change course.
Be as gentle with yourself as you would be with a dear friend who was struggling. You're doing the best you can in circumstances that are hugely challenging.
If you have strategies that have helped you navigate this time, or if you're finding it particularly difficult this year, I'd love to hear from you. Sometimes just knowing we're not alone in this makes it a little bit more bearable.
Warmest wishes, Davina

