The holidays are here again, and like clockwork, everyone is putting up trees, wrapping gifts, and stringing lights, buzzing with joy. But I can’t forget the year my tree didn’t go up.
It’s been three years since I lost my dad unexpectedly in 2021, and while the world keeps moving forward, my heart still sometimes lingers in the past. The holidays have a way of bringing back memories that are both comforting and bittersweet.
It’s the little things that stick with me—that I’m sure for anyone who’s experienced loss, it may too. The sound of their laugh as they untangled the lights, the way they always insisted on placing the star on the tree, even if it was never quite straight. Those moments made the season special, and now their absence feels like a hole we can’t quite fill.
That year, the thought of unpacking the ornaments, many with a memory of him or our family, was too much. See, grief has a way of sneaking up on you, weighing you down when you least expect it. Skipping the tree wasn’t about giving up on the season; it was about giving myself space to feel.
Instead of decorating, I found quieter ways to honor him—listening to his favorite Christmas songs, cooking his cherished dishes, placing a special ornament or lighting a candle in his memory. Small acts like these help keep their spirit alive.
Grief doesn’t follow a calendar. Some years, it’s lighter; others, it’s overwhelming. And in my case, that year, the tree didn’t go up, and that’s okay. It means giving yourself permission to grieve and finding joy again in your own time. That, too, is part of healing.
