For the days you’re just getting through,

December doesn’t always arrive as tears.
Sometimes it arrives as stamina, as lists, as doing what needs to be done while your heart is elsewhere.

Grief at this time of year isn’t subtle - it’s just busy. It takes a back seat while you shop, wrap, cook, show up, smile when required. And then, when the house quietens or the calendar flips, it can hit hard.
Fast.
Uninvited.
Like your body finally gets a word in.

If you’re finding yourself oddly functional right now; managing, coping, holding it together - and quietly falling apart underneath, you’re not imagining it. This is a very real way grief moves through December.

This week holds Christmas.
It holds my daughter Kahlia’s birthday on the 28th.
It holds the strange pressure of a year ending, as if time itself expects something of you.

If all you’re doing is getting through the days as they come, that counts.
There is no requirement to feel festive, there is no obligation to reflect, resolve, or redeem anything before the year runs out.

One true thing:
Getting through is enough. You don’t need to make this meaningful.

Quote:
“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it.”
- Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Song:
“Keeping Your Head Up” - Birdy
(Soft, steady, and quietly companionable when everything feels like too much.)

A journal prompt (only if it feels right):
What am I getting through right now, and what would make it 5% gentler?

A gentle ritual:
Choose one moment this week to opt out -even briefly.
No explaining, no justifying.
Sit, stand, breathe, or walk without performing okayness for anyone.

One thing to remember this week:
You are not behind, you are not doing this wrong. December is heavy because love is still present.

A note from me:
I know this stretch well, the days where grief isn’t loud yet, but it’s waiting.
Where birthdays sit beside Christmas, and the year’s end asks questions you don’t have answers for.
If this week feels like endurance rather than meaning, I see you.

There will be a pause in these emails next week, the next Tiny Invitation will arrive on 6 January.
If you need the quiet, take it.
If you need the words, come back when you’re ready.

With care,
Kirsten