The holiday season is here. Some desire to celebrate; some want to crawl in a corner and stay there until the time is over. When I was 17, my family lost our 10-year-old cousin-brother to a terrible, tragic accident a few weeks before Christmas.

As a young lady, I had no idea how to feel: He was there when we put the Christmas tree up and was gone forever a few days later.

Many of you know my childhood story. All glory to God for the healings provided. I can say I love and respect my parents despite the things I lived in growing up. I preface with that because what I am saying is not a slam on my parents; it's the facts. I had a difficult and challenging upbringing due to my dad's mental health.

Holidays for me while growing up was something my siblings and I looked forward to every year. It was the one time we could guarantee peace, joy, laughter, appreciation, and more at home. My dad will cook/bake, and we connected with the neighbors. When the clock hit 12:OOam, the whole neighborhood would be outside. We hug and embraced each other as we said, Merry Christmas. For me, it was a little slice of heaven in the turmoil of life. I still remember a year that we didn't get any gifts because, financially, it was not possible, and we (my siblings and I) wrapped some of our old toys and placed them under the tree and didn't play with them for a week or more. On Christmas Eve, we opened them as if we'd never seen them before. Nothing was going to rob us of our joy.

When my cousin died, we were not taught to grieve such loss. My parents were not equipped. There was no class, no support group, no books to read. We just learned to manage life without him. In a way, we tried to move forward, attempting to do some of the things we used to. It was strange. That's how I would say I felt: Strange.

Fast forward to years later: now I'm a mom. My oldest was born on Christmas. A time of celebration. The first year it was amazing. In the following years, I had that strange feeling again. Something in me felt sad, and I wasn't sure why. I did feel the need to glamorize the Holiday season. My amazing husband would be such a good sport since I was determined to make Christmas memorable every year. I love hearing the stories from my children of ideas I implemented during the holiday season (some memories make us laugh so much we'd cry). Despite my efforts, something felt strange.

When I studied the Bible and learned to focus on the meaning of Christmas, my mind shifted. That shift exposed the strange feeling I had not dealt with, and it came out in therapy. I had not grieved my cousin's death, and the times he was no longer there during such a memorable time in my life. I remember how much I cried. It was like years of repressed tears flowed nonstop. The pain was so present, anyone will look at me and wonder if I had just heard of a recent family death. This happened after my oldest was no longer a toddler. Focusing on Jesus exposed the hidden pain and helped me to enjoy my family and be comforted by God. I no longer feel the need to glamorize Christmas at my house. Now I look forward to Christmas to focus on Jesus and enjoy having all my children home. I still try to do something fun from my perspective. My hubby and kids are such great sports to go along.

I am not a grief counselor. I am a woman who, after many years later, understood the importance of not shaming myself for the sadness I feel over significant losses in my life. I have learned to not be embarrassed about reaching out for professional help when I need it. I am comforted by God, who heals my broken heart in many ways. He does that by using friends who gently guide me to embrace the comfort of my heavenly Father when the pain feels like it's more than I can handle.

With help, I grieved the loss of my cousin and many other losses in my life. I have learned to give myself permission to grieve and allow others to sit with me (this is not easy for me to do). The tools I learned on grieving I value. Despite that, things can trigger memories, and I can relapse into unhealthy coping skills when I am grieving. When I relapse into using unhealthy coping skills, I am grateful for those who provide a safe place for me to be vulnerable and become aware of what I need.

This morning I read about the death of three members from one of my family of churches dear to my heart. Over the past months, I have heard of even more deaths. I believe that my increased connection on social media allows me to hear about losses I usually would not have. I am grateful for that as it enables me to lift in prayer those who are hurting. This week one, my cousin died tragically. Today is his funeral. I was reminded of the need to be kind to those who have lost loved ones. This will be one of many holiday seasons without their loved ones. To be kind when interacting with people who may have lost so much, and at times we don't know why they may be acting strange. To be a friend. To reach out if I need a friend.

Grieving has taught me and continues to teach me lessons. The biggest lesson grieving has taught me when it comes to reaching out is that those who have provided comfort when I am hurting are not those who try to fix me, but those who know they can't.

Sending a lot of love to those who are grieving during this Holiday Season.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed." Psalm 34:18 NLT