I’m not known for shying away from difficult topics, or avoiding hard truths when necessary.  While that has been nominally true throughout my life, it’s become “front and center” during this grief ministry season.

So I want to talk about how we, both our supporters and us as grievers, should/could handle the dilemma of being alone for the holidays.  It’s also very likely that some of what we’ll discuss applies to anyone who is single, or even someone who’s become an empty nester.  So feel free to listen in from whatever perspective you have.

This is my sixth Christmas season as a widow and Christmas Day has been a mixed bag in regard to places to go, things to do.  I don’t really have family in the area so there’s no “natural” place for me to land on that day.

I’ve done a variety of things over these past years; anything from spending the day at the movies with a friend, to hanging out with other families at their large or small gatherings.

Through these years of testing out different options, I’ve finally been able to land on what works and doesn’t work for me.  Or maybe I’m just finally willing to call a spade a spade!

Some of what I share with you might surprise you, perhaps even offend you.  Please know that is never my intention, so I’m hopeful that the explanations can take away any unintended offense.

First let me strongly emphasize this caveat.  Whenever someone invites me to share Christmas Day celebrations with them and their families, I’m incredibly grateful for their kind and generous hearts.  I don’t take the invitation lightly, and I’m deeply blessed to know they would graciously include me in their gatherings.

Remember that!  But … I have found that spending that special day with someone else’s family often shines a light on what I’m missing in my own life, particularly if it’s a large extended family.  And instead of experiencing much joy, I often feel the loss more deeply, and leave with a general feeling of malaise or melancholy.  This was true regardless of any fun that we had that day.

I didn’t go into these situations expecting that, but it’s ultimately what I’ve come to acknowledge as true for me.  And quite frankly, true for many widows and singles that I know.

So what do we do with this?  I’d like to address this question from both perspectives – the inviting hosts, and the single/alone guests.

To you kind, gracious, welcoming hosts, I say this:

It’s still okay to ask us! 

Not everyone feels as I do.  And I might have a year where that kind of gathering sounds divine.  So inviting us to join your family on that special day will always be the right thing to do.  I would, however, suggest you ask sooner than the day before Christmas!  Most of us know we have to fill that day with something, and will have already made our plans by then.

This is a big “ask:”  Please do not be offended if we decline your invitation.  Speaking for myself, my “thanks, but no thanks” has never been because I didn’t love the people who asked me.  Or that I didn’t love spending time with them in other situations or circumstances.  There’s just something about that Christmas holiday that adds a heightened level of emotions.

And this may be even harder – don’t assume that one invitation decline means we’ll never take you up on it.  You might consider saying this, “I know you’ve turned us down for the past 20 years, but thought I’d check again in case you’ve changed your mind this year.”  I’m mostly joking there, but there is an element of truth to the concept of reaching out despite the history of “no thanks.”

Now to those of us who are alone, through death, or divorce, or singleness, or some other factor, how do we handle these invitations?

First and foremost, let them know, sincerely, how incredibly grateful you are that they consider you as part of their family, and want to offer you a place of belonging on that hard day.  Truly, it is special people who extend that kind of hospitality.

Be honest about the reasons you decline their invitation.  If you truly have other plans, it’s okay to share that, along with the aforementioned gratitude!  If you’re like me and find it hard to be the “single” in this adoptive family, consider letting them know why it’s hard for you.

It took me most of these six seasons to acknowledge that it was okay to have these feelings.  And that they were not a reflection of my love for these friends.  Maybe I just had to become more comfortable in my widow skin!  What I’ve found is that, as I’ve shared my reason for not joining them, after a short reflection, most of my friends end up saying, “You know, I get that.”

Finally, don’t assume that you’ll never want to join a friend’s family gathering.  Evaluate this year by year and let’s not get stuck in a rut, just because we made that decision the past few years.  This is me preaching to myself as well.

I hope this sheds a little practical light on what can be a really awkward conversation amongst friends.  Let go of any potential offense, on both sides.  Cover the situation with truth, grace, gratitude, and understanding.  Ultimately, you still want these friends around as the calendar turns to the new year.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God,

and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.

1 John 4:7