If you're here, you're probably missing someone.
I'm sorry.
I really am.
We're not going to try to fix anything in the next six minutes.
I don't think grief works that way.
Mostly it just wants some room, so that's what we'll give it.
Maybe the person you miss has Maybe died.
they're still alive, but gone from your Either life.
the way, missing is and real,
it's welcome here.
So get comfortable.
or Sit, lie Pull down.
a blanket over if you one's nearby.
You can close your eyes.
And if tears come at any point, let them.
You don't have to hold it together here.
This time of year can make it louder.
The holidays have a way of pointing at the empty chair.
Let's just breathe for a minute.
Breathe in through your nose...
slowly.
And let it out...
however it wants to Shaky come out.
is fine.
In again...
letting your chest rise.
And out...
letting your shoulders come down a little.
If there's a heavy spot somewhere, in your chest or your throat, you can
rest a hand there.
Just to say, I know you're there.
Now, if it feels okay, let them come to mind.
The person you're missing.
Don't reach for the hard parts.
Let a small, warm memory show up on its own.
Maybe it's their voice.
The way they said your name.
Or how they answered the phone.
Maybe it's their laugh.
The real one, when something caught them off guard.
Or it's something small and silly.
A habit of theirs that used to drive you a little crazy, and that
you'd give anything to be annoyed by one more time.
Stay with whatever comes.
It might bring a smile.
It might bring an ache.
It'll probably bring both.
If your mind wanders off, or nothing comes at all, that's okay.
Grief can make memory foggy.
Just stay with the feeling of them.
Now think about what you'd tell them, if they could hear you right now.
It doesn't have to be big.
Maybe it's just, I miss you.
Or, you'd have loved this.
Maybe there's something you never got to say.
Or something you said too many times and would happily say again.
Say it to them now, quietly, in your own words.
Take your time.
And if there's more, keep going.
I'll wait.
Notice that the missing and the loving are sitting right next to each other
in you.
You don't have to choose one.
It hurts this much because you loved them this much.
Both of those are true at the same time.
You might feel it in your body.
A heaviness in the chest.
A tightness behind the eyes.
Let your breath move gently around it.
Let yourself hold both.
Just for a few breaths.
Nothing to solve.
Something of them is still here.
Maybe in the way you laugh.
Maybe in something they taught you without either of you noticing.
This year, you might cook their recipe, or tell one of their stories out
loud at the table.
Or not.
Some years you just get through.
You carry that with you now.
You to don't have do anything with it today.
It's just there.
Whenever you're ready, start coming back.
Take a slow breath in.
And let it go.
Move your fingers.
Maybe wrap your arms around yourself for a moment.
You're allowed to be held, even if it's by you.
Then open your eyes, slowly.
Have some water.
Be gentle with yourself for the rest of today.
If you can, let someone who cares about you know that today is a
hard one.
You don't have to carry all of it alone.
You can come back here any time you miss them.
Which might be often.
That's alright.