Grieving During the Holiday Season
My story and why I'm here
December comes with that cozy, family feeling many of us love, but for those who’ve lost someone, with intensified memories too.
As some of you know, I lost my mother to cancer while I was in medical school. Her death changed everything, not only the way I live, but the way I practice and understand medicine. In many ways, it’s the reason I’m here today, writing to you.
A few months ago, I shared more of this story in a conversation with Brian D Smith. You can watch the replay here:
I read a line recently in one of Dr Christine DiBlasio’s posts that stopped me in my tracks:
“Grief doesn’t end because love doesn’t end.”-David Kessler
That one sentence gave words to what I haven’t been able to say for years.
When I lost my mother, I desperately wanted to talk to people who were going through the same thing. I asked my doctor for help, hoping for connection and support. The answer was an antidepressant. No support group. No guidance. Just a prescription.
During my mother’s illness, I had already seen how often the healthcare system fails patients. After she died, I experienced firsthand how badly it fails their families too.
It felt like the system was built to manage symptoms, not to truly heal.
I felt alone. Angry. I was studying medicine to help people, yet the very same system I was going to work in, didn’t help me when I needed it most.
And if that wasn’t enough, a couple of years later, my beloved cat Simba got sick, and we had to put him down.
And the worst part is that I felt people would judge me for grieving an animal. I still remember someone saying, “It’s just an animal.” But he wasn’t “just” anything, he was my baby. We are allowed to grieve an animal we love, just as we grieve the people we love.
It was too much. The pressure of the university, the loss of my mother, and then my cat. Honestly, I didn’t want to continue in this world. I remember walking down the street like a ghost, hearing people laugh and wondering how it was possible to feel that happy in a world that felt so broken to me.
And now comes Christmas again… a time of family dinners, full tables, and also empty chairs. A time when I still sometimes catch myself looking at the table and thinking, She should be here. Why did cancer take her so young? And then I go home after those gatherings and miss hugging my cat and listen to its purring.
This is the most personal post I’ve ever written. I’ve never really enjoyed social media, but Substack feels different. You’ve shown me so much kindness and support that I wanted to open this part of my story to you, so you can know me a little better. And because I would truly love to read your stories too.
If you’ve lost someone you love, or if someone close to you is living with cancer, you’re not alone here. This space is for you as well, and I’d love to read you.
I also want to thank Pamela Cotton, Ph.D., Jennifer Hacker, Dina Bell-Laroche, Leslie Hunt Palumbo and Brian D Smith for the beautiful work they do around grief. Thank you for opening the door to a conversation the world urgently needs.
And before saying goodbye, I’d like to thank my father and my aunt for being my anchor all these years. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.
With love,
Sara
In 2019 I lost my late husband to brain Cancer. He lived only 4 months from diagnosis to his death. To honor him, I self published a book in 2021 called Incurable, about our journey from his diagnosis to his death. Much to my surprise reached #1 in best sellers on Amazon, making me a Best Selling Author. What I learned from my late husband, is that dying to death can be a beautiful thing, if you are able to open your heart and mind to it. I discovered that Grief is really just love with no place to go. So when he passed away, I poured that love into the people and animals that remained in life after he was gone. I opened my heart to idea of loving another partner. I remarried in 2021. Since 2019, I have also lost 5 dogs, 1 cat, 3 horses, and my Dad. With each passing, I have needed to dig deep and remember my grief is just love, yearning for a place to go. Love and laughter are the rulers of my life. My late husband chose not to seek treatment, and as result he was not sick while he was dying, until of course his body began to let him down. I spent 56 days, 21 hours a day with him in a Palliative Suite. So much of this time was spent loving each and laughing at his silly antics. He lovingly carried me and his family through his passing, until he no longer had the cognitive ability to do so, and then I took over and carried him. It was both excruciatingly hard and beautiful all at the same time. Let love and laughter carry you through the hardest parts of your life - Michelle
You are helping people by sharing your story. Substack content is so refreshing! I just shared this article with a friend (who is also a health care provider) that I know will touch her heart after so much loss lately. And as your article quoted,
“Grief doesn’t end because love doesn’t end.”-David Kessler