When Grief Comes Home for the Holidays

Part of the Voice I Almost Lost – Blog #26

by Alana Pierre Curry

There is something about the holidays that brings certain memories a little closer to the surface. My mom passed away on November 25, 2022, which happened to be the day after Thanksgiving that year. And even though I miss her every day, there is something about this season that makes the ache sit a little deeper in my chest.

Maybe it is the rhythm of the holiday.

Maybe it is the way everyone gathers.

Maybe it is the quiet moments in the kitchen where she would sit and watch me cook…offering her commentary in the way only she could.

Whatever the reason, as Thanksgiving neared this year, that familiar feeling crept back in. A heaviness often tucked away.

The truth is, I push my grief down far more often than I let on. I don’t want my husband or my kids to feel sad because of me. I know they would understand. I know they would show up with compassion. But there is a part of me that does not want to burden them with the depth of my hurt.

So I carry it quietly.

I talk to my mom in the still moments.

I pray she is at peace.

And in my heart, I believe she is.

Tonight I called my uncle. I didn’t know where the conversation would lead, but the moment he said hello, I heard something familiar echoing in his voice. A few seconds. That is all it took for me to realize he was feeling exactly what I was feeling.

And somehow, he knew exactly what to say.

He talked about my mom being ready to go. How she was at peace. How knowing that…truly knowing it, is a blessing, even when it hurts.

His words hit a place inside me that I didn’t realize still needed tending.

I needed that reminder.

I needed that reassurance.

I needed to hear it out loud so my heart could believe it again.

In that moment, I wasn’t alone in my grief. My uncle was right there with me, carrying his own memories, his own ache, his own love for the sister he lost. And in a way I can’t fully explain, I could also feel my mom and my other loving uncle, who passed less than one year after my mom passed.

All of us connected through loss, through love, through memory, through God’s quiet timing.

I don’t pretend to understand everything about loss or healing. But I do know this: God has a way of placing people exactly where they need to be, exactly when they need to be there.

Sometimes healing comes through the people still here.

Sometimes comfort comes from the ones who have already gone home.

And sometimes the peace we pray for finds us in the sound of a familiar voice on the other end of the phone. ♥♥♥