One of my favorite quotes about grief is that it is “love with nowhere to go.” For those of us who have lost someone we love, certain experiences remind us of that loss. The reminders are both profound and profuse. We experience something we want to share. We hear a song or smell a scent from our childhood. We even catch ourselves dialing a number we haven’t deleted from our phone. These small moments stir a tidal wave of emotion. We feel the hole where the loss is, a void that is both painful and filled with love. This love is so big that it spills out. It overflows into the spaces in our heart where they existed and onto the proverbial floor. In the quiet moments, it can feel overwhelming. The joy of remembering is intertwined with the sorrow of absence. It’s a gift to have loved someone so much. Their presence continues to influence us in ways we often can’t articulate. It’s a place where gratitude and grief coexist. They shape who we are. They guide how we navigate a world that feels a little less bright without them.

2025 has presented immense challenges for so many, particularly for the most empathetic among us. The second half of this year feels particularly heavy with unexpected illnesses and deaths. There have been losses and challenges, not for me personally, but for those in my orbit. The pain of losing a loved one is profound at any time. Experiencing that loss during a holiday or a time of family tradition feels especially cruel. It leaves an empty seat at the table as a stark reminder of their absence.

This “club” is not one you want a membership card for, and it’s absolutely NOT exclusive. Once you’ve suffered a great loss you are changed forever. Your life is marked by BEFORE their death and AFTER. To that one friend I have, you didn’t understand why people post “memorials” on the anniversary of a death. Let me explain. It’s because it keeps that person alive. Some people do this on the birthday of a special human in their life. It’s healing and often happy for them to do so, even if it seems sad to some.

My greatest fear of death is not death itself. It’s the idea that someone I meet tomorrow will not have known my dad or my brother. These two “Glass” men who were bigger than life. They filled the room with laughter and love when they walked in. If you’re wondering what to do for someone who has suffered a loss, start by talking about their family. Mention their sister, mom, brother, or father. Mentioning family can be comforting. Share stories if you knew them.

I recently attended a party with my mom. A woman I was introduced to said, “I loved your dad. He was always making me laugh.” That one comment filled my heart. She knew my “pop” and for a few minutes, he was in that room with me. Something similar occurred a few days later with one of my best friends. I also recently had a brief interaction with one of brother’s “brothers” from college. Just one sentence on a Facebook post had me smiling all day.

I will always want to call my brother or my dad at every milestone in my life. I want to share the news, whether it is good or bad. I was lucky enough to have them both until my forties. Many people have suffered loss at a much younger age. But the thing is, it never goes away. That urge to dial, to ask for advice, to talk about something ridiculously funny that only they know about. It’s why you save that last voicemail and play it on repeat when you miss them most. In my case, I open up my shoe box of letters only to be reminded of things long forgotten.

December is a time of closure and January is a time of new beginnings. And in this moment I know way too many people who are struggling with illness and loss. The holidays just hit differently during the “after” part of this life. Good health is not a given. The people on the holiday guest list of your childhood are often missing. Those of us who remain feel our own mortality with each passing year..

It’s 2:23 a.m. And I have a few friends who are on my mind. It doesn’t matter if their favorite human died 30 years ago. It doesn’t matter if it was 3 days ago. If you knew that person they’ve lost, talk about them. Share stories and memories. Keep them alive in your heart.

Today would be my parent’s 64th wedding anniversary. My mom is my very own super hero. She is surely grieving my dad just a little deeper than all other days. The best thing you can do is raise a glass to Larry. You can also tell a story. Do the same for everyone else in your life whom this resonates with. If you’re not a card carrying member, consider yourself lucky, as I’m sure you already do. You’ll understand more when your membership begins. It’s just life. Life is amazing, then heartbreaking, then amazing again. It’s like a roller coaster of highs and lows. The people sitting next to you will change, but they will never truly leave unless you allow them to. And I say don’t allow that to happen. Write their stories down, share them with people you love. And the next time you see me, I’d love to hear about YOUR people. The ones who mark your life as “before” and “after.” We are in this beautiful, crazy life collectively.

Grief is not something to go through and get over, that’s a myth. This week and next, if you see someone at a grocery store welling up for no obvious reason, check on them. If someone lashes out at you when you’ve done nothing wrong, check on them. Or maybe the loud, funny person just seems a little quieter. Check on them. That could be the very moment when their love is searching for somewhere to flow.