As the holidays approached, I went up to the attic to find the precious boxes that held years of Christmas memories in the form of ornaments and craft gifts received from family and friends during our annual tree-trimming gathering on the second Saturday of December in the early 1990s. My daughter and I are still in awe when we see the boxes of ornaments and gifts unique to their time and place, a handprint of memory, a tradition that continued until my husband passed away in 2011.

The holidays are a reset, a moment to pause and remember what is most valuable.

Today, as I open the boxes, I think of him and all of my losses of the past few years due to the Covid 19 pandemic, and the collective losses we have all been through. How can we honor through art those whom we have loved and are now gone?

I remember the first Christmas without him was hard. The yearly tree trimmings paused for a while. I took it slow, attending small gatherings and tending to my grief. I needed to be present to my struggle, my love of the holidays, and my grieving for him. I knew that grief was a healthy response to the loss of a loved one. I knew grief was an act of love, a timeless experience unique to each person.

Frame I created in memory of my father.

I watched my grief with curiosity, how it affected me emotionally and how my thinking and behavior was impacted by my grief, but also how I tenderly tended to my grief. There was a time when grief used to come in large waves, all close together, a tsunami and then a rest. With time and care it shifted. I learned to sit with my grief rather than struggling with it. I asked for support when needed. Time passed. The holidays returned, and I moved forward. I laughed and loved again.

Now as I open the boxes of memories and feel the grief — but the grief accompanies me. I open the boxes of ornaments in an urge to honor the past and my loved ones. The ornaments are wrapped in white tissue paper, mummified. They include antique, hand-painted, crocheted ornaments, and Santas, angels to name a few. I sit here with these boxes that hold the memories of that time. I hear laughter, joy, and far away voices.

Today, I invite you to honor your loss in whatever way makes you feel right — creating an ornament, a framed picture, or a memory box. You can honor a loved one by using images of their favorite things or a quote or word as inspiration for your artwork. You can create an abstract painting in colors that honors the loss. Feel free to honor a situation, a friend, a pet, or even yourself, your needs, where you are right now. Take a breath and sit quietly remembering the good times. Art is an invitation to open space to honor memories. This can be hard, but remembering the good times might make you laugh, and bring feelings to your heart and mind.

Creative projects that I have done include:

• • Ornaments: Arts-and-craft shops offer many ornaments that are ready-made for projects involving collage, paint, image embossing, or whatever sparks your imagination. I recently bought a little house ornament to honor my old home with my late husband. I will paint the back, add images in honor of those who are gone, but live in my heart.
  • Frames: Once, I created a 2 X 3 frame in honor of my father, who passed away in 2005. Folded inside is an accordion book, and when you open the back, my father’s image pops out.
  • Quotes: Create Word Swags with quotes. Word Swag is an app with copyright images that allows you to create quotes. In my series “Urban Grief,” I put a grief quote to every chosen image. Another app, Bazaart, offers similar options for creating collages with the free copyright images they have in stock.
  • Memory Boxes: Find any box — even a shoe box — and decorate it as a memory box for keepsakes like images and quotes by your loved ones.

As I sit to explore my box of ornaments, I’m reminded that the holidays can bring new meaning into our lives. For me, the holidays are a reset, a moment to pause and remember what is most valuable, what has most meaning to life. I take a breath to explore the gifts given from those who are living and from those who are gone, and I hear the voices of my loved ones. What have you learned from me? How have you changed and grown as a result of my presence in your life? How can you continue to nurture the relationships with those who are still living?

Annecy Baez, Ph.D., LCSW
Professor, Touro University Graduate School of Social Work 
Windows Facilitator
New York, New York

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A Window Between Worlds (AWBW) supports hundreds of direct service organizations across the country to incorporate creative expression into their work with trauma survivors. With this blog we uplift the voices of our art workshop facilitators and participants. We invite you to take in this perspective, notice what resonates and explore how it may fit into your life.