This piece will be the first in a a series of Healthshire articles on grief, written by different mental health professionals, offering various perspectives on how to handle one of life’s most difficult processes.

Winter is Coming

When the last remnants of the summer heat have faded and the trees are changing color, you feel a transformation in the air. As the leaves fall to the ground and rustle in the autumn breeze, the trees mourn and brace for winter. They whimper in the wind and the sound of raindrops echo their pain. The cold seems like grief, seeping into your bones, imprinting its memory into your very being.

The holiday season can be arduous when grieving the loss of a loved one.

This time of year always inspires reflection.

Certain moments of my life have become crystallized in time.

Every nuance is captured, emblazoned on mind and heart. I can bring back the memory effortlessly, shift the fabric of time and space, and live through it again.

The day I lost my brother is one of these moments.

My 24 year-old brother was involved in a car accident. He sustained injuries to his chest that his body could not handle, and died soon after the crash. It was impossible to notify us in time. None of us were by his side. No last words of love and support. No efforts to ease his pain. No ability to hold his hand as he took his last breath.

He was gone. Just like that. After 24 years of conversations, sibling fights, dinners, laughter, jokes…24 years of LIFE: it was no more.

That kind of realization is difficult. Accepting it almost impossible.

In a few months, five years will have passed since that horrible day. The day that split my life into two columns: Before He died and After He Died.

If you’ve dealt with personal loss, you will inevitably hear something about time’s magical healing powers. Time heals all wounds. It just takes time. One day at a time.

Time, however, does not always dilute the pain. For me, the time between today and the last day I saw my brother enhances the hurt. Time takes me further away from his vitality and his presence. His smile. His voice. His hugs. Time is a marker, reminding you of that divide between before and after.

This is most evident during the holiday season. Your mind and soul prepare for warmth, for family, and togetherness. We often associate memory with the mind, separate from the body, as if we are not one unit, one system. Our bodies remember as well. So although we may not consciously make the link between the holidays and grief, our bodies can. We aren’t as clear and focused. More tired than usual. We feel “off.” Maybe a little anxious and depressed.

All of this is absolutely normal.

I used to love the holidays. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas. I loved the cold weather, the decorating, the cooking, the get-togethers. All of it was so warm and inviting. Stressful, yes, but well worth the efforts to spend time with people you love and who love you.

After my brother’s death, however, holidays were torture. Any celebration is tremendously difficult when you’re grieving. The first “celebration” came two weeks after my brother’s death with his 25th birthday. A birthday he and I share.

That experience should have prepared my family for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but these holidays are completely different, strangely even more difficult. Whereas we used to fill the house with lights and decorations, we could not muster the energy or will to put up anything. Our house, much like our hearts, remained cold and empty for the next three holiday seasons. We finally snapped out of it when my niece and nephew wondered aloud where our Christmas tree was. We had to stop attending to the places within us that had, in a sense, died with my brother, and attend to the living. We have yet to fully engage in how we celebrated before, but now we have a tree for the munchkins to enjoy.

Making new memories by treasuring the past. This is what brings us some semblance of solace.

There are ways to cope with the difficulty of loss during this season, no matter what holidays you celebrate, or if you don’t celebrate at all. I continue to learn myself. I try to find ways to ease my pain and still honor the hurt that I will always carry.

Here are some tips to help you and your loved ones during the holidays:

Don’t Be Afraid to Share Your Grief

Ignoring your pain and grief during the holiday season will not make the feelings go away. We often keep our pain to ourselves because we don’t want to impose on other people’s celebrations, but if you surround yourself with the right people, they will be open to hearing and understanding you.

Recognize Your Limits: Physically and Psychologically

The holiday season is exhausting enough without adding loss to the mix. Listen to your body. When you are feeling emotionally or physically drained, respect the message, and slow down. Try not to set unrealistically high expectations for yourself.

De-Stress Your Schedule

Time with family and friends is usually in abundance this time of year. It’s okay to carve out some alone time during which you can find ways to ease your stress through meditation, reading, listening to music, or maybe some online shopping. (Use the last suggestion with caution). Make sure you don’t spend so much time alone that you are isolating.

Surround Yourself with Support

Surround yourself with the people who understand that this time of year increases your sadness, with individuals who are comfortable sitting with your feelings, good and bad.

Do What’s Right For You

We usually feel obligated to attend every gathering or function during the holidays. Recognize that while people mean well, they might be encouraging you to engage in activities that will ultimately affect you negatively. Identify what your needs are and make them known to your trusted family and friends.

Use Your Faith

Death can alter or renew faith in many ways. You may find yourself strengthened by your faith or discover a new set of beliefs. Find comfort in expressing your faith with understanding people.

Create New Traditions

Engaging in old traditions can be difficult after losing a loved one. Developing new traditions that honor the memory of your loved one can be a healing way to celebrate life and love.

As you navigate this holiday season, remember there is no “right” way to grieve. Your grief is your own, stemming from love and compassion. Be patient with yourself and make sure you engage in proper self-care. To honor your grief is to honor your love.