Navigating Loss: Finding Strength and Comfort Through Grief

Life goes on as it typically does--until it doesn’t. This week, we lost our pet parrot. I know many people have an aversion to birds (I did, too, when I married into this pet relationship). I told my husband it was like keeping a chicken in your living room–a little weird. I once had a friend who wouldn’t enter our house because of her fear of birds. So I know it’s hard to muster sympathy for this loss from others when they can’t understand the relationship (that sentiment is so true for other relationships as well). 

The holiday season can exacerbate grief and loneliness.

Sam, the parrot, lived to be 32 years old, and I was a part of his life for 22 of those years. He was obnoxiously loud, and cleaning his cage was sometimes very gross. But he could mimic a cat meowing, a telephone ringing, and ask you, “What’s going on?” He played peek-a-boo, danced when you said, “Shake your tail feathers,” and loved to give kisses and especially loved kisses on the back of his head (the softest feathered part of his little body). He died in my arms this week, and as I grieve, I recognize how much grief lies buried in the human heart and how this season can amplify what seemed hidden. 

Of course, there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Right now, I sit somewhere between bargaining with “if only” thoughts and depression (we lost our geriatric dog during the fall, so grief is a jumble right now). I recognize that the death of pets may not compare to the profound losses others are experiencing. Grief is tied to an individual–experienced in variants. Bystanders cannot understand its depths. It is a silent ember. 

Anniversaries, holidays, or other little daily reminders of what was lost may stoke the embers of grief. If this season has somehow made you feel hollow instead of whole, be gentle with yourself and your precious heart and find ways to comfort yourself. It’s not selfish or undeserved–it’s essential.

Loneliness, grief, and depression are complicated.  If you find yourself sad, lonely, grieving, or all of the above and more, spend some time loving yourself. 

Are You Taking Care of the Essentials? If you have spent time with a toddler in the midst of a meltdown, there is a checklist you may have run through to try and lessen the child’s distress. Tired? Hungry? Thirsty? Overwhelmed or overstimulated? Are you any of these? 

Chances are you might be dehydrated--especially if you have been crying. If so, get a glass of water and keep drinking. Set timers on your phone to remind yourself to drink during the day.  

Use your phone again, set an alarm an hour before you need to go to bed, and begin shutting off the lights and easing yourself toward sleep.

Feed yourself something whole–an apple, a banana, or celery sticks with peanut butter. 

Too much noise? 

Find a quiet place. Breathe for a minute. Is there a book that gives you solace? Read it. Let it fill in your broken places. 

And if the tears are coming down too fast and hard, wrap your arms around yourself. You may feel alone, but you are not. People love you. Seek them out. They may not know you are overwhelmed or hurt. If you feel you have no one to turn to, seek out a house of worship or pray. I bet there is someone who does want to be there for you if you just ask. Someone somewhere wants to be there for you–if you only ask. . 

Grief is deeply personal, but is universally human and connects us in this journey called life. If you’re navigating the pain of loss or the heaviness of this season, know that healing doesn’t mean forgetting. Self-care isn’t abandonment. It’s finding a way forward, one step and one day at a time. Winter Solstice draws nearer and the loss of light reminds us that when darkness arrives and closes around the day– the next morning renewal begins and day by day the light returns slowly but surely. I pray that your soul finds light and renewal day by day. Be patient and kind with yourself–and make space for the light.  

Grief is deeply personal but is universally human and connects us in this journey called life. If you’re navigating the pain of loss or the heaviness of this season, know that healing doesn’t mean forgetting. Self-care isn’t abandonment. It’s finding a way forward, one step and one day at a time. 

As Winter Solstice draws nearer, let the loss of daylight remind us that when darkness arrives so early and closes around the day, the following morning renewal begins. And day by day, the light slowly and surely returns. I pray that your soul finds light and renewal day by day. Be patient and kind with yourself–and make space for the light through self-care and relationships.   

*This information is not intended for diagnosis or used instead of professional advice. If you are struggling with extreme grief and depression this season, please reach out to a healthcare professional for advice. If you are in crisis or having suicidal thoughts, please call 988. The world needs You! Please seek out help.