Put on Adam Sandler's Hanukkah song and let's talk about light, my grief warriors. Because a holiday that's all about light lasting against impossible odds? Yeah, that hits different when you're grieving.
While everyone else is posting their perfect menorah pics on Instagram, some of us are just trying to figure out how to make it through eight nights when even one feels like a stretch.
You know what though? There's something kind of perfect about a holiday that's all about light lasting longer than anyone thought possible. Because isn't that basically us? Still here, still shining, even when we thought our light was totally done for?
Running on Empty (But Make it Festive)
Let's be real - sometimes getting through the holidays feels like trying to make one phone battery last through an entire Taylor Swift concert. Everyone's out there living their best Hanukkah life, playing dreidel, and posting their sufganiyot (that's jelly donuts for the uninitiated) on TikTok, while you're sitting there thinking, "Cool cool cool, but my person isn't here and everything feels like hot garbage covered in chocolate gelt."
Eight Nights of Survival Strategies (Because Who Doesn't Love a Holiday-Themed List?)
1. First Night: Light One Tiny Flame**
Remember, you don't have to be the human equivalent of Times Square. Just light one small candle. Maybe that's taking a shower today. Maybe it's eating something other than leftover latkes. Whatever. Small wins count.
2. Second Night: Find Your Festival Fam**
Your grief gang, your survival squad, your "holy crap, you get it" crew. They're out there. And thanks to modern technology, you can find them without leaving your blanket fortress.
3. Third Night: Honor the Empty Seat**
Yeah, there's a person-shaped hole at your Hanukkah table. Don't pretend it's not there. Maybe light a candle specifically for them. Tell stories. Cry into your applesauce. It's all kosher (pun absolutely intended).
4. Fourth Night: Embrace the "Somehow Still Here" Energy**
Like your phone somehow lasting till you get home despite being at 1%, you're still going. Still here. Still fighting. That's not nothing, friend. That's everything.
5. Fifth Night: Spin the Dreidel of Emotions**
Sometimes you land on Gimel (great, all the feelings!), sometimes on Shin (crap, put some feelings back). The game keeps spinning whether we like it or not.
6. Sixth Night: Fry Something**
Look, I'm not saying emotional eating is the answer, but have you tried channeling your feelings into latke-making? Aggressive potato grating can be very therapeutic.
7. Seventh Night: Share Your Light**
Maybe you can't feel the light right now. That's okay. Let others hold it for you. And when you can, hold it for someone else. That's how this whole grief tribe thing works.
8. Eighth Night: Reclaim Your Space**
The holidays are yours too. Even if they look different now. Even if they hurt. You get to celebrate, grieve, or do both at the same time while stress-eating gelt. No rules in grief club.
Finding Light in the Darkness (Not a Metaphor, I Literally Can't Find My Menorah)
Here's the thing about light - it hits different when you've been in the dark. Sometimes just making it through another holiday season is its own kind of miracle. Sometimes finding community in the darkest places is the light we didn't know we needed.
The real flex isn't pretending everything's fine during the holidays. It's showing up anyway, messy and real, maybe with tears in your latkes, but still here. Still lighting those candles, even if your hands shake. Still making space for joy, even if it comes with a side of grief.
So this Hanukkah, whether you're celebrating or just trying to survive the holiday season, remember: your light matters. Even if it's flickering. Even if you need someone else to hold the match for you. Even if you can only manage to light one tiny candle in a very dark room.
That's enough. You're enough. And somehow, together, we keep the light burning.🕯️
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