Surviving Thanksgiving and Christmas alone
Too many people assume everyone has someone
Have you got your Thanksgiving turkey yet?
Why would I need to buy a turkey? I’m alone. I hate the holidays now that I’m alone. Is that what you’re thinking as the world goes nuts over the upcoming holidays? Me too.
We are already seeing Christmas TV commercials featuring big happy families gathered around tables laden with food. The whole world seems to assume we will be celebrating with parents, partners, kids, grandkids, and in-laws for Thanksgiving and Christmas or Hannukah. If you’re alone, that may not happen.
I’ll be doing my usual long drive to California for Thanksgiving, but Christmas is always tough because I don’t know what to do or who to do it with. Once upon a time, I knew exactly where I would be for the holidays, all dressed up and having a good time with my family. That’s not how it goes anymore. Most of those people have died or live far away. It’s just me and Izzy the wandering cat—if he comes to visit.
My late husband was Mr. Christmas. He loved going into the woods to chop down a tree. We decorated it together, with Christmas music playing, taking breaks to sip hot buttered rum. For weeks, I kept busy baking and making gifts, which he wrapped and mailed for me. On Christmas morning, we sat by the tree in our pajamas unwrapping our gifts to each other. Then he made Dutch babies, loaded with peaches and powdered sugar, for breakfast. It was great.
When he died, I had to figure out new ways to do the holidays.
At first, I couldn’t decorate for Christmas; too many memories. Now I do, but I only put up what I enjoy rather than sticking to tradition. I sing and play music at church, then go home to an empty house and a small fake Christmas tree with few or no gifts under it. I open them alone. Then most years I join a friend’s family for dinner. It’s good. It’s kind of them to invite me, and we do have fun. But it’s not my family. It’s not my kitchen that smells like turkey and pumpkin pie. I don’t have leftovers in my fridge. No turkey sandwiches or extra slices of pie.
I always promise myself I won’t cry, won’t dive into the swamp of sadness, but I end up in tears every year.
 I always wanted to be one to host the family gatherings like my parents did, but that’s unlikely to happen because I live in Oregon and everyone else lives in California or Washington. The back-and-forth I envisioned when we moved here doesn’t happen because the others are tied up with kids and jobs. As the widowed, childless, self-employed one, I’m the one who travels through rain, snow, and traffic.
Enough about me feeling sorry for myself.
Here is where I’m supposed to offer cheery advice for surviving the holidays. Nothing changes the fact that we’re alone, but there are things we can do.
Make a plan. Don’t let the special days sneak up on you.
You don’t have to do anything, and you don’t have to make excuses. One of my favorite Thanksgivings, I was just sick enough to stay home. I watched TV and ate leftover enchiladas.
Stay off social media. All those happy-family pictures will kill you.
Eat what you want. Decorate however you want—or don’t. Go all out on gifts for others or do something quick and easy. Give because you want to not because you feel you have to.
If it’s hard to be alone, tell your friends. Simply mentioning that I had nowhere to go got me three invitations last year. They weren’t my family, but I had fun, and I learned how to play the Mexican Train dominoes game.
Throw your own orphan party. Invite others you know will be alone.
Volunteer to help feed the hungry, lonely, or homeless. Helping others helps you.
Work out at the gym, take a hike, run, dance, do yoga, or whatever physical activity you enjoy. You will feel better if your body feels good.
Watch non-holiday movies or football all day long without any guilt.
Travel somewhere warm and relaxing, sip pina coladas by the pool and forget about the holidays.
So much of this is what I have been advising readers of my Childless by Marriage blog for years. You have to claim the day for yourself and do something YOU enjoy. Or don’t do anything. You can choose.
BTW, I bought myself a turkey. It’s in the freezer. Some regular day, I am going to cook it, and I’ll have turkey sandwiches for weeks. Because I want to. I also bought canned jellied cranberry sauce because that’s the kind I like best. My house, my rules.
Do the holidays fill you with dread? Do you have plans to get together with people, maybe more people than you want? What is your advice for getting from November to January on our own?
Further reading—There’s some great advice here. Read on.
How to Survive (and Thrive) During the Holidays When You Feel Alone
8 Tips for Navigating the Holidays Alone
50 Holiday Loneliness Tips from Therapists
Photo by Ysaias Martinez on Unsplash
How did I end up alone? My first marriage ended in divorce. My second husband died of Alzheimer’s after we had moved to the Oregon coast, far from family. I never had any kids, only dogs. Now I live by myself in a big house in the woods. You can read our story in my new memoir, No Way Out of This: Loving a Partner with Alzheimer’s, available now at your favorite bookseller. Visit https://www.suelick.com for information on all of my books.
I relate to so much of this, even though I have a partner. We have no kids, and no extended family on this side of the globe. Christmas is always a grief trigger for me on multiple different levels, and nothing ever feels quite right. Thanks for giving voice to this. I think there are many more of us that feel this way, despite the images the media portrays of happy families. I usually opt for the 'orphans' Christmas and invite a random collection of waifs and strays.
As an 85 year old widow I absolutelly LOVE being alone. Holidays and any other days. When everyone was living, my houses was the place for the holidays. But now I simply do whatever I want that includes cooking or not, watching Netflix all day, getting dressed or simply lounging around in my pj's or whatever I want.
Life is good :)