As an executive coach, I try not to offer my advice too often. I make an exception when it comes to grief. Why? Because I have more personal experience in this space than I would like, and have learned a lot of good, hard lessons along the journey. Also, because traditional Western societies are terrible at “doing” grief.
As a bereaved mom and a grieving sister, there is one thing I know for sure: I love talking about my son and my sister. Sharing stories and pictures of them helps keep them alive in my heart and my mind. It also gives me the opportunity to share how truly amazing both were, and the impact they made on this world.
My little boy, Connor, only got to spend two Christmas seasons with us before he passed away unexpectedly in 2011. But in the short time we had him here, in our arms, he changed our lives tremendously in beautiful, wonderful ways that transformed our family. And, in death, his legacy continues to leave ripples of joy and kindness on everyone who hears his story, sees a photo with his beaming smile, or watches a video where he’s gleefully clapping and saying, “Hi Dadda!” We refer to this as “The Peanut Effect” since his nickname was Peanut.
So, when it came to our first Christmas without him, my husband and I were at a loss. I was pregnant, and we also had my four step kids at home – we couldn’t just ignore the holidays, could we? When another grieving family shared their tradition of a special tree in honor of their son’s memory it hit us like a lightning bolt. Yes.
A meaningful tradition was born that day. We bought a little tabletop artificial tree, invited close friends and family to our home, along with a request: bring an ornament that reminds you of Connor, along with a remembrance, a story, a smile, or tears. We named it the Peanut Tree.
Last night my husband and I put up this year’s Peanut Tree. It’s much larger now – we’re on version 3.0 and it’s already 90% covered with special, heartfelt ornaments – and each one tells a story. These ornaments have helped Connor’s “little” brother (who is almost 13 years old now) get to know his big brother. And it very much makes Connor a part of every one of our holidays. It’s a special tradition, that is jam packed with love, tears, joy, and hope.
For everyone who is grieving someone significant – that can mean a spouse, parent, sibling, child, dog, aunt, cousin, best friend, and more – this season, find a way to honor your grief. Don’t shy away from telling the stories, sharing the photos, and shedding some tears. Find a way to incorporate your loved one into your holiday, in a way that feels meaningful to you.
