As Thanksgiving approaches, I find myself feeling the weight of those who aren’t with us anymore—family, friends, and the memories of moments we thought we’d have forever. The holidays can be a reminder of everything we’ve lost, and sometimes, the absence feels louder than the celebrations around us.
Grief is a strange thing. It lingers in the quiet spaces, in the pause between laughter and in the empty chairs where loved ones used to sit. And when we’re in the midst of our own healing, facing our own mental battles, the heaviness can feel overwhelming.
This year, I’m learning to hold space for both grief and gratitude. It’s not about choosing one over the other but honoring both. There’s room to feel the loss and still be grateful for the love that once filled those spaces. It’s okay to miss those we’ve lost while holding onto the hope that healing continues, even when the journey is hard.
I’d like to share an excerpt from Air and Echoes that speaks to these moments:
“Your lips mouth words
My mind made them say—
“I love you. I miss you.”
I whisper back,
“In the worst kind of way.””
If you’re feeling the ache of missing someone this Thanksgiving, know that you’re not alone. Allow yourself to grieve, to remember, to feel whatever rises. And if it feels too heavy, lean into the moments of love that still surround you—the people who are here, the warmth of a small tradition, or even the comfort of your own resilience.
We don’t have to do this perfectly. Healing is about holding all these pieces, even the hardest ones, with as much grace as we can muster. If you’d like to share how you’re honoring those you’ve lost or the ways you’re finding strength this season, I’m here to listen. Feel free to reach out or leave a comment.
Thank you for being on this journey with me. Together, we can hold space for both the pain and the beauty of what it means to heal and remember.