Holidays, Nostalgia, and Grief

There’s something about holidays that calls to nostalgia. And among holidays, for me, Christmas is the one that stirs up memories like more or less nothing else. And then those memories set off other memories and… well, I cry a lot around the end of the year.

Nostalgia, my quick Google search tells me, is widely considered to be a good thing nowadays. It promotes all kinds of good stuff in the psyche. I won’t summarize the research because better sources already have (heck, Wikipedia has a summary). But I will tell you that the research seems to like nostalgia. 

I also like nostalgia. I like the way it somehow, incredibly, keeps me attached to the present through images and feelings past. I like the way it makes me feel like Scrooge, changing my thoughts about now by showing me then. And I like the way it stirs up my feelings when they’ve settled to the bottom of the glass like grenadine in a Shirley Temple.¹

What I’m less sure about is how I feel when nostalgia grabs me by the grief and shakes me around.² Like when I have a fleeting memory of attempting cartwheels with my cousin in my grandparents’ yard and it leads to a massive, fragile cry over how much I miss my Nana.

It leaves me wondering, at what point do nostalgia and grief give each other some space?

Every grieving process is different, but I think a lot of people wonder when they will be able to remember their loved one without pain and tears. And the darkest, most holiday-dense part of the year is a natural time to be wondering it as traditions change and shift as different people grow up, grow old, come and go. We look at a holiday that is suddenly shaped differently and we feel loss. Of course it doesn’t help if we are still in the depths of grief.

This isn’t a lecture on grief any more than it’s a lecture on nostalgia. But ultimately, when we get to the right part of the grieving process, it’s up to us whether we try to do nothing but hold on to the past, or forge ahead towards new traditions. I say, go forward, but let nostalgia remind us of how things were.

I’m going to end with something I don’t usually do and share the complete lyrics to one of my songs. This is a Christmas song, written a few months ago, about the way Christmas changes as you grow up. I think (I hope) it’s a compelling argument in favour of indulging nostalgia while finding new things in your life to see value in.

You can’t go back
The past will slip away
Traditions change
Hold on to the memories of
The ones you miss, the ones you love
The magic in your life was true
Even if it’s not what’s magic to grown-up you

What do you call magical?
Is it reindeer racing on the wind?
What do you call magical?
Is it perfect snow for rolling up snowmen?
What do you call magical?
Is it music or lights or just a feeling in the air?
What do you call magical?
Whether you can explain it or not, it’s there

You can’t go back
Can’t be a child again
And wondering
You may have learned things now
The what and why and who and how
The magic in your life won’t go
Even if you know what makes it magic isn’t so

What do you call magical?
Is it starlight reflecting off icicles?
What do you call magical?
Is it hot chocolate with marshmallows?
What do you call magical?
Is it a sweater you’re secretly glad to wear?
What do you call magical?
Whether you can explain it or not, it’s there

So go ahead
Be where you are
And be aware
Look around at who you’ve got
‘Cause they’re worth more than what you bought
There’s magic in your life now too
Even if it’s not what seemed like magic to little you

What do you call magical?
Is it someone home for the holidays?
What do you call magical?
Is it mistletoe and someone’s gaze?
What do you call magical?
Is it nothing but knowing that someone cares?
What do you call magical?
Whether you can explain it or not, it’s there

Is it music or lights or just a feeling in the air?
Is it a sweater you’re secretly glad to wear?
Is it nothing but knowing that somebody cares?
What do you call magical?
Whether you can explain it or not, it’s there

-me, “What Do You Call Magical?”

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¹ That’s my kind of festive drink.

² Stirred, not shaken, thank you.