Grieving through Christmas when tragedy strikes

Sandy Corbett found out she had cancer on Christmas Eve in 2020.​

Type of cancer? An incurable blood cancer called Myeloma, where about 60 percent of people survive five or more years with a stage two diagnosis.

She didn’t have much information on what her treatment journey might be (the haematologist, a doctor who specialises in blood, was away until mid-January, like the rest of the country). So Corbett and her husband decided to tell their six kids the news and push on with their Christmas tradition of a BBQ at their Marlborough Sounds bach.

“You almost get like an out-of-body experience, and you’re watching yourself taking this information. It was quite surreal. It was very weird.”

The Corbetts and three of their kids spent a few weeks at the bach as they normally do.

“As the days went on, that’s sort of when [the grief] all sort of came out.”

The grief that follows a tragedy can make any situation unpredictable, and that includes Christmas. So what do you do when a time of happiness and getting together is foreshadowed by the death of a loved one, a job loss, a bad health report or some other tragedy?

“It is a time that sparks memories and thoughts of loved ones who are not there. And if it’s recent, that experience is going to be even more intense,” says Brad Hook, a resilience specialist from Resilience Institute Global.

“The evidence-based advice would be to say that first and foremost, there’s no right way to grieve. People adapt in different ways…”

The dual process model is a methodology that views the grieving process as switching between two modes, says Hook.

“…there are these deep loss-oriented moments where we really just allow ourselves to feel the grief and remember that person [who died], but then to balance it, there are restoration-oriented moments where we actively try to re-engage with everyday life and reconnect with people and routines.

“So understanding that the back and forth is normal and is actually healthier than trying to stay in one mode all of the time.”

This model is about alternating between “attending to your grief and attending to life,” says Claire Laurenson, a grief counsellor based near Wellington.

Practically, at Christmas, Laurenson advises clients to have several different options for the day that suit the two modes. Give family and friends a heads up that your plans are loose depending upon how you feel on the day, she says. In other words, don’t lock yourself in by volunteering to provide a key meal element like the turkey or ham.

“I think having a plan or having an idea of what you want to do can help reduce some of the anxiety.”

You’ve probably heard of the stages of grief, a central philosophy on dealing with grief since 1969. Those stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

The dual process model can work with the stages of grief model, says Hook.

“[The stages of grief] is better seen as a metaphor than a map. It captures common emotions people may experience, but research shows grief adapts through flexible oscillation rather than predictable stages.”

Laurenson is more critical of the stages of grief model, pointing out that the original study looked only at those who received a terminal diagnosis and not a wide range of events like a significant death or loss. She found it too rigid while grieving her baby son, who died 40 years ago.

“[Grief] is very chaotic and has a power of its own,” she says.

Some people might be able to delay their grieving until after Christmas, says Laurenson. However, it cannot be delayed indefinitely.

“… if you can decompartmentalise your grief in that way, then, you know, go for it.”

She once had a client, a stay-at-home dad, who was grieving the loss of a child. He still had to care for his family, including other children, so he set aside time in the evening to grieve that loss. It’s an example of the dual process model.

“That was a daily practice, not putting something on hold for a month.”

Each Christmas Eve, Corbett, who received the cancer diagnosis, doesn’t partake in any major ritual to remember the day her life changed (it inspired Corbett and her husband to sell their house and travel around New Zealand in a caravan for the last four years and counting). However, they at least acknowledge the anniversary with a conversation.

“It’s not a sombre thing, really… We sort of joke about it. What a day to find out about this sort of thing?”

Laurenson speaks from experience when she tells clients that the build-up to an anniversary of a loss is often worse than the day itself. The day no longer has a string after 40 years.

“For a while, there was just, you know, a sorrow that sat inside me, but I don’t even have that anymore.”

Families who experience a significant loss around the Christmas period might want to retire old traditions, especially if those traditions involved someone who is now deceased, says Laurenson.

“…if you’ve lost an important member of your family, then it’s never going to be the same again, and sometimes it’s looking at, well, you know, do you want to continue these old rituals? Do you want to introduce some new ones?