More on Getting Through the Holidays

I thought I'd add an extra post this week. Here are some tips on getting through the holidays from a psychiatrist friend.

Give yourself permission to cry if you have to, need to, want to.

If your budget is tight (and whose isn't these days? )think of passing on a favorite book, an album of family photos, or some other special possession instead of buying a gift for a friend/family member.

Keep your home full of light. This is the dark time of year in which Seasonal Affective Disorder can hit you and heaven knows, we don't need another way to be depressed. Lots of natural light combats SAD and lifts your spirits.

You would have given your spouse a gift if he were still here, so spend some of that money by contributing to a charity in someone's name instead of buying something for them.

Donate to the library for a book dedicated to your spouse.

Together with your children or grandchildren, give a gift donation for a needy child. I give my granddaughter a check to donate to a charity of her choice each year, with the stipulation that she write a letter explaining why she's donating to them. Two years ago, she wrote the sweetest letter to the Leukemia Society. I made a copy and framed it. It brought joy to my holiday as well as helping fight the disease my husband had.

Hang a stocking for your spouse and ask friends/family to fill it with notes about your spouse. You may cry as you read them, but they'll be "good" tears.

And of course, get plenty of rest, eat healthy snacks (I know it's impossible with all those holiday goodies)and exercise--walk somewhere that was meaningful to you and your husband.

And finally, please don't spend the holiday alone.

Stumbling Through the Holidays

Holidays are tough. Thanksgiving is especially hard for me. It was the premier holiday of our year. Although I made sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, spinach casserole and dessert, Ralph always cooked the turkey and dressing, including his own recipe for jalapeno dressing (which I avoided like the plague). At dinner, everyone would chorus, "This is the best turkey you've eeeverr made," and he would grin like a fool.

Further back, I remember the Thanksgivings of my Austin childhood: big family gatherings, sometimes with soldiers stationed at nearby bases, the Texas-Texas A&M game and the UT Tower glowing orange against the night sky after a Longhorn victory.

I'm fortunate that my children live in town. Now I celebrate Thanksgiving with my daughter-in-law's family. Different home, different table. That makes it easier.

I've kept my husband's message on the answering machine, and at the end of the day I dial our number to hear his voice on a special day. Then I shed a few tears in private.

What else works? Starting a new ritual, inviting friends to dinner who haven't shared past Thanksgivings may help. Or if you can't manage cooking, going out with others who are alone is a good idea (even though restaurant turkey isn't the same as home-cooked). Spending the day volunteering at a facility that feeds the homeless may make you feel needed. If your church or synagogue sponsors a Thanksgiving dinner, go. Make a list of things you're thankful for; you'll surprise yourself that even when you're grieving, there are many things to appreciate--the support of friends, the lovely fall colors, the sound of a child's laughter.

The one thing you probably shouldn't do is be alone. Sharing, even if you're sharing loneliness, really does help.