You are not alone in your grief - December
The December meeting of The Last Chapter Book Club was a quiet, meaningful success—one that reminded me exactly why this community exists.
This month, we read Welcome to the Grief Club by Janine Kwoh, a book that meets grief with honesty, tenderness, and moments of unexpected lightness. Rather than trying to explain grief away or offer solutions, Kwoh’s work acknowledges what so many of us know to be true: grief is awkward, nonlinear, isolating, and deeply human.
What stood out most to me during our gathering wasn’t just the discussion of the book; it was the way the group naturally gravitated toward one another.
Without prompting, people chose to sit closer. The circle tightened. Conversation slowed. There was a shared, unspoken agreement that this was a space for listening, not fixing. A space for being witnessed. A space where it was okay to say, “I don’t know how to put this into words,” and be met with nods instead of silence.
That instinct to physically and emotionally move closer when grief is present is something our culture often discourages. We’re taught to give space, to avoid discomfort, to change the subject. In that room, the opposite happened. The group leaned in more than I had seen in previous meetings. They held space for one another with gentleness and respect, allowing stories, memories, and emotions to surface at their own pace. In all honesty, I believe I was the most uncomfortable person in the room that evening, trying to balance pure joy and confusion because I had never seen anything like it.
Welcome to the Grief Club, which gave us permission to talk about the things that don’t fit neatly into conversation: lingering sadness, complicated relationships, storage units (IYKYK), the exhaustion of “being okay,” and the strange moments of humor that coexist with loss. The book acted as a soft landing pad, something to hold onto while we explored our own experiences.
As the year came to a close, this gathering felt especially grounding. December can amplify grief in both obvious and subtle ways. I am fine every year until I am crying while eating mashed potatoes and thinking of my grandmother. Holidays, anniversaries, and expectations can make loss feel heavier. Being in community, especially one that doesn’t require anyone to perform or explain, matters more than ever during this time.
I left the meeting feeling deeply grateful. Grateful for the people in the room who showed up willing to listen, share, and simply be present.
The Last Chapter Book Club continues to remind me that grief doesn’t need to be rushed or reframed to be meaningful. Sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is sit together, tell the truth, and hold space exactly as we are.
If you’ve been curious about joining us, know this: you don’t need the right words, a fresh loss, or a polished story. You just need a willingness to be human, in community, for a little while.
Throughout December, Until Death Doulas invited groups to participate in a gentle holiday ritual: Make a Memory Ornament. I feel that the activity aligned with the spirit of Welcome to the Grief Club and with the heart of Until Death Doulas. Creating a moment of care, creativity, and connection to honor grief - not as something to fix, but as something worthy of ritual and remembrance.
As the year winds down, the holidays can bring both comfort and ache. This activity was created as a way to honor love and loss side by side without needing to explain either.
Participants were invited to begin by choosing an ornament that felt right to them. Some selected something simple, others gravitated toward sparkle or whimsy. There was no right choice, just the one that resonated in the moment.
Using pen and paper, each person created a small tribute. Some wrote a name or a note. Others drew a picture or captured a memory in a few quiet words. The room remained soft and still, filled with reflection rather than urgency.
Next came the mementos. Small objects, written words, charms, or symbols were tucked inside the ornaments. Any tiny reminders of the people we carry with us, especially during this season, that could fit in the ornament.
Before leaving, everyone was encouraged to take their ornament with them to hang it on a tree, place it somewhere meaningful, or even carry it with them through the holidays. Not as something heavy, but as a reminder: love doesn’t end.
