On Dec. 1, 2024, Leslie Hughan laid pajamas on the kitchen table and hung the family elf from the living room chandelier to start the Christmas season.

It was the last thing the 41-year-old mother of four ever did.

A year after Hughan’s sudden death of a pulmonary embolism, her husband, Bryan, and eldest child, Gin, debated how to carry out the elf tradition without her. Gin said she’d take care of it. The next day, Bryan and the younger kids found the elf hugging the giant picture of their mom hanging in the living room. A day later, the elf swayed from the chandelier, in almost the exact same spot Hughan once put it.

“We looked at the elf, and we hugged and said, ‘That’s Mom,’” Bryan Hughan said.

Grief is always hard, no matter the time of year. It’s messy and confusing and distressing. Some experience anger and guilt. For many Marylanders, the holiday season can exacerbate heartbreak. Some can’t fathom celebrating at all.

But even with sadness, there can be joy. Whether it’s keeping a loved one’s stocking hung, sharing memories around the dinner table, making their favorite meal or visiting their grave, grieving families find ways to navigate Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year’s Eve and other end-of-year holidays.

“This time of year is so romanticized in so many ways, and so we feel a double dose of challenging emotions if there’s grief as well as coping with the stresses of the holidays,” said Dr. Neda Farzad Gould, a psychiatry professor at Johns Hopkins University. “So many of our memories are wrapped up with traditions and experiences with loved ones that may not be here.”

Above all else, people experiencing grief shouldn’t compare themselves to others, Gould said. People don’t grieve the same.

Some people find comfort in spending time with friends and family, while others rely on hobbies or activities. Whatever it is, find something that brings you joy, Gould said.

It’s also OK to look for support groups, see grief counselors or consider taking antidepressants, she said. For those supporting a grieving loved one, she offers this advice:

“There are some common comforts, like helping with meals or helping with daily tasks that the individual may not be able to attend to, but otherwise, just feel free to ask,” Gould said. “You don’t have to take away the person’s pain. Just align with them and allow them to see that you’re there.”

Bryan Hughan finds strength in his children. While last year’s Christmas was more difficult for the kids, he said, this time the holidays are hitting him harder. He was so focused last year on a normal holiday for his children that he didn’t attend to himself.

In the months after his wife’s death, Hughan turned to alcohol, a familiar coping mechanism, he said. But he knew that wasn’t healthy or sustainable. He sought therapy, started taking medication and relied on his support system.

He was scared at first of showing emotion, especially around the kids, but now knows it’s OK to cry. His advice for others: “Don’t fight it.”

“Be sad, be happy, remembering the things that you learned from them, remembering the things that you hated about them … remembering all those things — the good, the bad, ugly — will keep them with you,” he said.

Leslie Hughan was a writer who always had a pep talk ready for a friend in need. Her loved ones described her as a “superwoman” who would do anything for her children.

Her stocking still hangs in the house. Bryan and Leslie used to wrap gifts together while watching “It’s A Wonderful Life” — or, rather, Leslie would wrap them while Bryan entertained her. He thinks of her now as he struggles to get the wrapping paper flat.

Samantha Reigel Green doesn’t think of Dec. 22 as her 14-year-old son Liam’s “death day” or the anniversary of his passing. She calls it the day that the funny, responsible, hockey-loving Glenelg High School freshman became cancer-free.

It’s comforting to picture him in heaven, smiling and healthy, but brain fog and pain still follow her. Therapy has helped, and she still talks to Liam and looks for signs from him.

“If you look and wait for it, I can feel his presence,” she said.

This Thanksgiving, Green chose to spend the day alone, but she bought all of Liam’s favorite foods. She thought of last Thanksgiving, when the family put up their Christmas tree together for the last time.

Her therapist suggested keeping Liam’s memory alive on Christmas by keeping old traditions he loved and starting new ones.

She put out the elves that Liam adored and hung his stocking. She’s not sure she’s ready yet to play Cards Against Humanity — the family version, and Liam’s favorite game — but may put it on the table. Baby steps.

Green is also going to buy a present for Liam’s cat, Misty, and sign it from him. She’s going to ask loved ones to write down a memory about Liam, put the notes in a box and give it to her as a gift.

Michelle Frazier doesn’t necessarily think the holidays make her grief worse, but it doesn’t help. It’s now been a year since her husband, George “Doc” Manning, died of heart failure last Christmas Eve. The sadness is overwhelming. Sleep evades her.

Manning, a beloved figure in Baltimore’s jazz scene and well-known emcee, was the more extroverted of the two. Every year, they looked forward to a friend’s New Year’s Eve party.

Frazier doesn’t feel like being around other people right now, but she’s keeping up her social obligations to honor her late husband. She will spend Christmas with his immediate family — something they never did while he was alive. She also finds comfort in reading about grief.

“Grief is so personal that whatever way it manifests for you is the way that it’s supposed to be,” she said.

Roxanne Spath lost her 19-year-old daughter, Cameran Holt, last November. She was killed by a stray bullet while enjoying a night out in Federal Hill with family. In the immediate aftermath, Spath said she’d give herself a year to feel everything fully. She wouldn’t police her grief.

Spath and her family share stories about Cameran with each other all the time. They carry her picture to family events and out on walks with her dog, Rein. This holiday season, they’re carrying on traditions that Cameran loved, like shopping for gifts with her nephew and decorating the Christmas tree together.

Spath will also spend some time with a new member of her extended family: the man who received Cameran’s heart through organ donation.

Last Christmas, Spath gifted her family Build-A-Bear stuffed animals with the sound of Cameran’s heartbeat, recorded before she died, playing inside. Everyone cried when they opened them.

Spath’s advice is to lean on others for support, and don’t feel like you have to grieve alone.

“Grief is not linear,” Spath said. “Give yourself the time, like a year, to just [have] no expectations. Get up, brush your teeth, at least practice your hygiene, and just feel them as they come. And then just keep moving.”