For the bereaved, the season can be melancholy

People say grief gets better with time, but that's not true, even if how you deal with it may evolve

Almost a year ago, I wrote a column about Olivier Royant, one of my closest friends. He had just died of cancer and the column was an homage and something I thought could help me cope with his death. It didn't.

I wouldn't fare much better were I to pen that same column today.

Regardless of how often people tell you grief gets better with time, that's completely untrue. Grief changes with time. You deal with it differently. It's not necessarily better, not necessarily worse. You certainly don't feel less sad about your loss. But you do learn to manage the sadness in different, more bearable ways.

It's the beginning of December and Christmas lights, along with Christmas trees, are up. George Michael and Mariah Carey's respective holiday classics are back on radio playlists. Eggnog recipes are being shared.

It's the most wonderful time of the year — for some. For others, the holiday season is a cruel reminder that loved ones are gone and that despite their best efforts to be merry, someone will be missing, something will feel off.

I've been thinking about Olivier's family and how this will be their first holiday since his death. The first year is often the hardest. I've also been thinking about all of the many other newly bereaved families.

Often, they were not able to give the departed a proper goodbye because of COVID-19 restrictions, thus adding frustration to the already difficult process of mourning. For them, for many of us, December means 'tis the season for melancholia.

On Nov. 22, actor Andrew Garfield was a guest on the Late Show with Stephen Colbert. Having recently lost his mother, he offered this perspective: “I hope this grief stays with me because it's all the unexpressed love that I didn't get to tell her.” It knocked the wind out of me. I had never looked at grief that way, and it reconciled me to its heaviness. I now understood the weight we carry around after someone dies is that of love.

That excerpt of Garfield's interview was shared hundreds of thousands of times on social media. The next day, many media outlets reported on it. It came as a reminder of both the universality of grief and of the power of television.

The response to Garfield's honesty and willingness to open up was perhaps an indication of our need to find comfort and to hear about what is too often only whispered about, if spoken about at all.

Could grief be the last taboo?

In recent years, we've witnessed the destigmatization of mental health, thanks to collective societal efforts, from government programs to schools including mental health into their curricula, from businesses' initiatives like Bell's Let's Talk, to influential personalities sharing details about their struggles.

Next year will mark the 30th anniversary of the implementation of a World Mental Health Day on Oct. 10. Its goal is to raise awareness of mental health issues around the world and to mobilize efforts in support of mental health. In recent years, the day made its way into non-medical calendars and businesses have started to observe it, giving employees an opportunity to benefit from the day's objectives.

April 28 is the National Day of Mourning in Canada, a day to reflect on workplace safety. Maybe it's time to widen the day's mandate? And could the numerous efforts over the years to normalize the importance of mental wellness be applied to that of dealing with loss?

Until we figure it out, I send all those grieving courage.

The month of December is a difficult one, but eventually, you'll find ways to cope with it in different, more manageable and bearable ways.

I promise.