Thanks, but not for me not for now. Sorry.

@IndianaScott No problem. Whenever you feel like sharing. let us know, all of you are in my thoughts.

@colleenyoung
@hopeful33250
I have been avoiding this site, recently, due to my emotional state (very down) and due to my husband's health - a scary incident leading to an ER visit last Friday night, and seemingly more rapid cognitive decline since that. I know that, that's what this site is for, but it has been sudden and overwhelming, and I am hoping that, with time, I will adjust.

Getting on to remembering lost loved ones - I do not do anything different at holiday time than I do year around. For me, when I have lost a family member, family gatherings just emphasize the loss. Not that I haven't gone to them, but they seem so empty, hollow. Instead, the "missing" are with me on a daily basis - the love they gave me, the lessons they taught me, the strong ways in which they influenced my life, opinions, attitudes.

Baking - any time of the year - especially certain things, like breads or sweets, or traditional/ethnic foods - is what makes me feel tied to my mother, a special aunt, my sister, my grandmothers, and all the women who came before me for hundreds of years. It is a thread that links us - a tie that transcends time, life, and death. This is how I feel, however, every time, all year around, that I cook certain dishes, or bake certain breads or sweets, or TRY to make potato salad like my late sister's. I can feel them - they are standing next to me, counseling me. I can hear my aunt, or my mother: "Watch the flour. Don't make the dough too stiff." or "Add a little more of ...", or my sister's: "It's a little flat. Add just a bit more seasoning - but just a bit." They are always with me in the kitchen, although I seem to do less cooking and baking these days.

With my dad, it's remembering his opinions and influence, his strength and dignity, when making decisions. Or, when I feel like crying or giving in, I can still hear: "Straighten up now. Be strong.", and either "Don't cry, now." or "Don't cry in public." or "Don't let them see you cry." "Aw come on now, you can do that." "Sure you can." "Why don't you go play basketball with the boys!?" (Good grief! I was one of the shortest kids in my class in grade school. And he did have three sons, too, but he thought I could, and that I should, too.)

Every time I see milkweed, I remember two young girls - my sister and I - walking down dusty country roads, digging the soft silk from the pods and throwing it to the wind and making a wish if a piece of it landed on either of us. When I see lightening bugs, I think of us, as young girls, at our grandparents' farm, running through the tall grass at dusk, trying to catch lightening bugs, sharing a bed, there, on hot summer nights, windows open, listening to the frogs singing. There are a million more memories from over the years. Oh, man, I miss her, but I'm so glad she was my sister for a while.

They're all still with me every day, in many ways, and I try to keep them alive by remembering what they taught me, and by trying to preserve those things and use them.

@macbeth
Please know that I'm thinking of you and fully understand your comment about avoiding this site for awhile. I have been avoiding too and your note pulled me in - thank you. I understand reflection is needed but sometimes it just seems to fall to the bottom of the pile of everything else that needs to be done.

Also, thank you for your note about loved ones and memories - you describe so well how our loved ones who have been so much a part of us in life continue to be "present" with us throughout our lives on a continuous basis when they are no longer physically present. In addition to the memories that are stirred within when doing previously shared activities, I also love to touch, look at and feel tangible items to help refresh and strengthen my memories -- photo albums are the more obvious -- but treasured quilts, dishes, letters, books, etc that embody the relationship I had with these people bring us closer together. I actually started to use one of my grandmother's quilts earlier this year to feel closer to her and remember her strength during this very difficult journey. These "things" are symbols of our relationships and I know if all were lost, my memories might become more sketchy but I would still treasure and hold close the relationships through feelings. I need to think some more about if holidays are more difficult than any other day...

@macbeth Thanks so much for sharing the way you honor the memory of those who have passed away. It sounds as if you have included them in the activities of your every day life .

Thanks, @tavi, you also have shared some very tangible ways of remembering and adjusting to a new normal now that loved ones are no longer with you.