26/11/2025
Be Compassionate And Gentle With Yourself As You Navigate Through The Holiday Period.
Dr Joanne Cacciatore Reminds Us How To Give Ourselves The Permission To Do So.
Dear ones,
As the leaves turn and the air grows crisp, Thanksgiving arrives once more This is a time when the world gathers around tables laden with abundance, sharing stories of thankfulness and joy. Yet for those of us carrying the weight of grief, this holiday can feel like a quiet storm, stirring the ache of absence where our beloved once sat.
The laughter and warmth that fill the air may only amplify the loneliness of our hearts. It is okay, truly, if your gratitude this year is laced with sorrow; grief is not the opposite of thankfulness, but a testament to the depth of connection we once held.
This is a season that urges us to count our blessings, askswe may feel pressured to don a mask of cheer, hiding the tender fragility within. This inauthenticity can deepen our isolation, distancing us from others and even from ourselves. But remember, dear friend, grief asks only to be honored, not hidden. It is the other side of love, and in acknowledging grief, we reclaim our authenticity.
I offer these gentle practices to help you navigate this Thanksgiving. They are invitations, not obligations, to foster connection with your sorrow, your loved ones, and the enduring bond with the one who is gone.
1. Share your feelings with those around youv who feel open and safe. You might say, “This Thanksgiving, I’m missing them so much. Could we set a place at the table in their honor, or share a favorite memory before we eat?” Speaking openly invites others into your grief, easing the unspoken tension and allowing love to flow through the words.
2. In gatherings, discern between sacred, vulnerable exchanges with trusted souls and lighter interactions with others. When the heart feels raw, seek out those “low-risk” companions who hold space without judgment. Save the deeper remembrances for them, where the risk of misunderstanding is minimal, and healing can unfold.
3. Create simple acts that bridge the present with the past. Light a candle at the meal’s start, whispering their name into the flame. Or prepare a dish they cherished, dedicating it to them. If children are involved, invite everyone to draw or write something they most miss about the one who’s gone, transforming the table into an altar of shared grief and
love.
4. Reach out to support groups, online forums, or kindred spirits who understand the language of loss. Organizations like the MISS Foundation offer spaces where bereaved hearts connect, reminding us that shared grief can lighten the load, even on a day meant for feasting.
5. Step outside, if only for a moment, to feel the earth’s steady rhythm. A walk among fallen leaves or a quiet sit beneath the autumn sky can ground you. If indoors, bring in a sprig of evergreen or a stone from a meaningful place to hold as an anchor.
6. Amid the holiday’s demands, move gently, perhaps a slow stretch or a mindful breath while preparing the meal. Nourish yourself with foods that comfort, rest when the waves of emotion rise, and limit what depletes you. Self-care is a quiet act of devotion to the life you still carry.
7. Adapt traditions. If old customs sting too sharply, introduce something new: a gratitude jar filled with notes of mixed emotions, or a volunteer outing in their name. Change need not erase the past; it can soften its edges, making space for your grief to create Abe momentary shifts to wasw the weight of the holiday for now.
8. Set gentle boundaries and communicate your needs ahead of time, perhaps in a heartfelt note: “This Thanksgiving, my heart is heavy with missing them. I may need to step away for a moment of quiet, or skip the usual games. Your understanding means everything.” Forethought can protect your tenderness, allowing you to participate on your terms.
9. Invite memories to the table by giving explicit permission for their name to be spoken. Ask others to share a story or imagine what they’d be doing. In these echoes, love lingers, turning absence into a felt presence.
10. Carve out intentional alone time, perhaps rising early to journal a note to your beloved or end the day with silent imaginal walk with them. In stillness, allow the tears to come; they are the rain that waters the soul.
As we gather, or choose not to gather, this week, let us hold grief gently.
You are seen, you are held, and in time, amidst the shadows, may you glimpse threads of connection and compassion. Together, we bear the unbearable, one moment at a time.
And remember that we can be grateful for all that we have while also grieving for and missing, all that we’ve lost.
With compassion, Dr. Joanne Cacciatore
www.SelahCarefarm.org
