Grief is one of the most difficult things I have ever faced in life. The holidays are always a tough time for me. The holidays are looming like the crest of a huge ocean wave. How do you walk that perilous shoreline of grief while everyone around you seems to have an intact family, with everyone alive and happy? And it gets compounded every time you turn on the TV or open a magazine, and see all those other complete family units in high definition joy, underlining over and over exactly what you are missing.

My Mom and I were very close. It was a hard-won closeness after what happened to Mark, so we appreciated it a great deal. Christmas was HER time of year. It was magical for her, and she spent most of the rest of the year planning for it, and deciding how best to keep the family traditions of our family. To see her at Christmas was to see pure joy in action. So, the first Christmas without her was awful. It hurt like heck and still does.

My grief counselor told me to do what brings genuine comfort, even if it seems odd. My mother’s love for Christmas has me bringing a decorated tiny Christmas tree to her grave. I set it up with stones so it doesn’t blow down. Mom loved Christmas so much that she must be delighted that I do this. I put ribbons, bows and flower’s on my dad’s and Mark’s grave. I always do something in the NY Yankee theme for Mark. This year I’m putting up a banner that shows the last game played in Yankee Stadium.

Our tradition was to set an extra chair on Christmas Eve for "the uninvited guest". My mom always said that Christ walks the streets in the guise of a stranger that night, so if he comes to your door, he should see a place already set. We used to always set that up next to Mom, joking that she would be the most enthusiastic companion. The year she passed away, I set up two empty chairs -- one for the guest, one for her.

Your loved ones would not want you to tear apart your life. Life and traditions go on. They may have died, but your love and their love stay around forever.

Whether your faith is traditional or not, somewhere it contains something for you to lean on, if only the belief that you are not alone. For me, it is important to focus on the fact as expressed in my faith, that my Mom may be gone from this plane, but that she has gone on to life beyond it, and that someday we’ll be together again. It doesn’t make my pain go away, but it reminds me that what we say is "dead" is not lost forever.

The most important thing between you and your loved one was -- love. And no one can ever take that from you. All the love that was expressed is yours to keep forever. Love is stronger than death.