Choosing Joy: Reframing Thanksgiving After Loss

As the holidays approach, I find that I’m actually excited—a feeling that has been elusive since my mom’s passing. The past two holiday seasons have been especially difficult. I appreciate Thanksgiving for its focus on gratitude, yet I still carry complicated feelings about it.

I remember enjoying the gatherings and the festive energy when we celebrated as children. But as the years went on, and I found myself living away from home—working a stressful job, broke, and using precious vacation time to be with family—I didn’t enjoy the holiday in the same way. By that point in the year, my spirit was usually overspent, and all I truly wanted was rest and fun. For me, that rarely aligned with family Thanksgiving gatherings.

My mom went out of her way to put on a beautiful Thanksgiving. She had a gift for entertaining and cooking. She often made it look effortless, but part of that ease came from knowing my sisters and I would shoulder much of the work. Instead of enjoying a break from work and a chance to recharge, I found myself growing increasingly resentful. It was simply how things were. We were raised in an era when women were taught to find their worth in pleasing men—who, in turn, enjoyed that privilege without question.

Eventually, with time (and likely therapy), I realized I didn’t need to continue that cycle. It seemed I was the only one who felt dissatisfied. I began joining my cousins’ Thanksgiving celebrations, and I loved them. We played games, laughed, and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. My spirit usually felt restored. But my mom was disappointed in me. She seemed offended that I chose joy over resentment. Choosing myself felt difficult; as a woman, it often seemed expected that I hand over my agency. It was a generational pattern.

The Thanksgiving gatherings of my childhood, wherever they were held, were often centered around the perfect table: fine china, polished silver, glowing candles—the whole works. And truthfully, I loved that. But these days, things feel much more relaxed. The dishes require less fuss, and the responsibilities are shared more evenly among everyone.

Now, I’m older, and my life has changed in profound ways. My parents are gone. Different family members host their own gatherings and traditions. It’s time for me to establish my own way of celebrating with my little family—to welcome new feelings and create new memories. I am not bound to the past; only the joyful memories need to be carried forward. I’m open and ready.

One tradition I’ve tried to keep is a toast or reflection on what we’re grateful for. I love the idea of dedicating a day to gratitude. And a Turkey Trot walk or run is always a wonderful way to start the morning. More than anything, my intention now is simply to be present with the joy of it all.