Christmas at Home: Healing the Christmas Blues -- For Anyone Who Loves Deeply
- Jill Bourn
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read
If you’re someone who loves deeply -- someone who tries to keep Christmas beautiful for the people around you, you know the quiet pressure December brings.
The lights. The magic. The traditions.
We want to create memories that feel warm and lasting, even when life is complicated. But what happens when you, the one holding the season together, get hit with something you didn’t expect?
What happens when joy feels a little heavier this year?
That was me -- the one who usually keeps going -- until this holiday season invited me into a story I didn’t see coming.
When the Holiday Blues Snuck In
It started right before Thanksgiving-- an unsettling feeling I couldn’t name. Not sadness exactly… just something “off,” like a room in my soul that had gone dim.
I kept trying to identify it:
Was I missing something on the holiday menu? Did I forget an appetizer I used to make? Was I overwhelmed? Tired? Overextended?
I couldn’t put my finger on it… until my dreams caught up with my reality.
I started dreaming of my dad.
He passed away three years ago, and although I’ve been aware of missing him every holiday since, somewhere in my mind I thought I was “over it.” Not over loving him or missing him, but over being affected by it so deeply.
Most days, I’m okay. I think of him often, but I don’t cry the way I did that first year. Life kept moving, and I moved with it.
But grief has its own timeline. And this year, it found its way into my Christmas season.
A Beautiful Weekend -- and the Quiet That Followed
Fast forward to last weekend -- our annual Christmas celebration in the Hill Country with my in-laws. It’s a tradition I truly love. We gather early, before the chaos begins, and simply be together.
Everything felt wonderful.
Until Sunday evening, after everyone left, when an unexpected emptiness settled in my chest. And as if my body decided to echo my heart, I got incredibly sick that night. By Monday, I was completely down.
The days that followed were filled with rest, medicine, and healing -- but also with stillness. Quiet moments. Honest prayers. Personal conversations with Jesus. Time I hadn’t planned for, but maybe needed.
Somewhere in that space, I realized what I had been carrying:
The Christmas Blues.
When You Love Deeply, the Holidays Can Hit Differently
On Wednesday evening, as I thought about Christmas at home, about traditions, togetherness, and the people we love, I asked myself:
How do I move through this season with a heavy heart…and still let Christmas be meaningful?
And then I thought about you.
What if you’re feeling this too? What if you’re trying to show up, love well, and make the best memories you can -- while quietly carrying something tender inside?
So instead of pretending everything is fine, I began thinking about how we can heal during the holidays, not after them.
How We Can Gently Heal the Christmas Blues
Slow Down Without Guilt
You don’t have to earn Christmas by doing more.
Joy doesn’t come from perfection -- it comes from presence. (Preaching to myself right now!) Let yourself simplify. Choose what truly matters.
Rest is not a failure; it’s an act of care.
Invite Light In
There’s a reason we decorate with light during the darkest time of the year! Turn on the soft lights. Light a candle. Sit quietly for a moment.
Even a small light can change the atmosphere of a room -- and a heart.
Make Space for What (or Who) You Miss
I was reminded of this by a sweet family member this week -- If the holidays bring grief to the surface, it doesn’t mean you’re going backward.
It means you loved.
Honor that love. Speak their name. Hold their memory gently. Grief is love with nowhere to go, so give it a place this Christmas.
Create Comforting "Traditions" (With no pressure to continue them next year if it doesn't work!)
Traditions are meant to support us, not weigh us down.
This season, give yourself permission to create small, comforting traditions that feel right for this year, knowing you’re not obligated to repeat them next Christmas if they don’t fit.
A tradition can be simple:
Making the same warm drink each evening
Playing one meaningful song while decorating
Taking a quiet walk to look at Christmas lights
Writing a short prayer, reflection, or gratitude list
Cooking a favorite meal just because it feels familiar
Traditions don’t have to be inherited or Instagram-worthy.They can be temporary. They can be quiet. They can evolve.
What matters is that they bring comfort now.
And if next year looks different? That’s okay too. Healing seasons often require flexibility, and Christmas can still be beautiful when it changes.
Choose Gentle Connection and Let Gratitude Lead
One of the quiet truths about healing the Christmas Blues is this:
connection grows deeper when it’s paired with gratitude and giving.
When life has been heavy, and for some, this may have been the hardest year yet, it’s easy to focus on what’s missing. But choosing to look at the glass half full, even gently, can begin to shift something inside us.
Charles Dickens understood this well. The story of Scrooge isn’t just about Christmas cheer, it’s about a hardened heart softened by remembrance, gratitude, and generosity. And maybe that’s why it still resonates.
Giving doesn’t always have to be monetary. Sometimes it looks like:
Calling a parent or grandparent just to hear their voice
Sharing a meal with someone you love but don’t often see
Checking in on a friend who’s been quiet
Offering your time, your presence, or your listening ear
Thankfulness fills our souls. And giving -- especially in simple, human ways --has a way of filling the empty spaces we didn’t even know how to name.
Share a call.
Share a meal.
Share a moment of honesty.
Sometimes healing begins not by fixing what hurts... but by being seen, and allowing ourselves to truly see others too.
From My Heart To Yours
If you’re walking through the Christmas Blues, please hear this:
You are not behind.
You are not ruining the season.
You are someone who loves deeply, and love makes us tender.
This Christmas, may you allow yourself small traditions that bring comfort for now, without pressure to carry them into another year.
May gratitude gently refill your soul, and may giving through time, presence, or love quietly fill the empty places.
May your home feel safe.
May your heart feel held.
And may healing meet you right where you are.
Beautifully written & a gentle reminder that holidays can be harder for others than we realize - even when they do not show how affected they are by grief.