Halloween After Child Loss: Honoring Memories and Making New Traditions

By Danielle Cristofano-Schwartz, LCSW, Director of Family Services, SUDC Foundation

As both a bereaved mother and the SUDC Foundation’s Director of Family Services, Danielle Cristofano-Schwartz brings a deeply personal perspective to navigating holidays after child loss. Her daughter, Lydia, died shortly after her second birthday, less than two months after celebrating Halloween with her family. In this reflection, Danielle shares how her family’s experience of Halloween has evolved over the years, from stepping away from the holiday entirely to finding meaningful ways to honor Lydia while creating new traditions with her younger daughter, Sadie.

Lydia was an avocado for her first Halloween and a bunny for her second. 

My husband and I dreaded our first Halloween without her, especially knowing how excited she would have been. She died less than two months after her second Halloween, a day that brought us so much joy as we watched her run from house to house, taking in all the excitement around her.

For what should have been her third Halloween, we shut off our doorbell camera, turned off our porch lights, and closed all the curtains. My husband and I ended up watching a loud movie so we wouldn’t have to hear the children outside. Essentially, we wanted to avoid Halloween altogether. In that first year, that was what felt right for us.

Of course, not every family has the same opportunity to make the choices that best meet their needs. For families with living children, there can be a painful pull in two directions: the desire to hide from the world and the desire to create a sense of normalcy for their other children. Parents may find themselves trying to protect their own hearts while also reminding their children that they are still allowed to experience joy, even in the midst of profound sadness.

Over the years, my feelings about Halloween have evolved.

Our second Halloween without Lydia was our first with Sadie, our second daughter. She was still a baby, so we didn’t feel much pressure to go all out. We bought her a costume of her own, but we also dressed her in Lydia’s avocado costume on another day that week. 

That year, we again turned off our doorbell camera, but I was willing to leave candy outside. I still didn’t want to hear the other children, but I also felt a pull to let myself celebrate a little, especially for Sadie.

By our third Halloween without Lydia, we allowed ourselves a little more joy. Again, much of that was for Sadie, but it felt okay. She wore her own costume, and we made sure she had the chance to wear her sister’s bunny costume, too, even if only for a little while.

Having Sadie to focus on helped, but it also made us more aware of everything we were missing with Lydia. We couldn’t help but wonder what Halloween would look like if she were here, what costume she would choose, and how the two sisters might experience the holiday together. Sadie has a matching personalized trick-or-treat bag to Lydia’s. Sadie carries her own, and I carry Lydia’s. It is my small way of keeping her close and making sure she remains part of our family’s traditions.

Having living children can be a source of comfort and distraction, but it can also complicate grief. They are a beautiful reminder of the life that continues, while simultaneously reminding us of the life that should have been. We can feel immense gratitude for the moments we share with them while grieving the moments we will never get to experience with our child who died. Sometimes, those feelings exist side by side, even when we wish they didn’t.

There is no right way to navigate Halloween, or any holiday, after the death of a child.

Some years, you may need to turn off the lights, close the curtains, and let the world carry on without you. Other years, you may find yourself ready to participate, create new traditions, or find small ways to include your child in the celebrations. You may even find that what feels right one year is completely different the next.

Whatever you choose, you are not doing it wrong. You do not have to force yourself to celebrate, and you do not have to feel guilty for experiencing moments of joy. Making room for joy does not mean you miss your child any less, just as stepping away from a celebration does not mean you are missing out on life. You are learning to navigate a world that looks different than the one you imagined.

For us, Halloween has slowly become a day that holds both heartache and love, both the pain of Lydia’s absence and the joy of watching Sadie grow. We carry Lydia with us in the traditions we preserve, the costumes we share, and the little ways we make sure she is still included.

She should be here. We should be watching her run from house to house, just as we did that second Halloween. That truth doesn’t change. But neither does the love we have for her, and neither does her place in our family.

This Halloween, wherever you find yourself on your grief journey, I hope you give yourself permission to do what feels right for you and your family. Whether you turn off the lights or open the door, whether you celebrate, remember, or simply get through the day, your grief deserves room to exist exactly as it is. And so does your love

Support for SUDC Families

The SUDC Foundation provides complimentary grief support, resources, and opportunities to connect with other families following the sudden, unexpected, and unexplained death of a child. Whether your loss is recent or occurred many years ago, our Family Services team is here to support you.

To learn more about our services, visit www.sudc.org or contact us at info@sudc.org.