A Heart Full of Gratitude: End-of-Year Reflections and Holiday Rest

Written By Melissa Hull

As this year draws to a close and I prepare to step into a season of rest with my family, I find myself reflecting on all that has unfolded. December has always carried with it a kind of stillness — a pause between what has been and what is yet to come. This year, that pause feels especially sacred. When I look back on the months behind me, my heart is overflowing with gratitude.

This year has been extraordinary in ways I could not have fully imagined. With the release of my book, Dear Drew: Creating a Life Bigger Than Grief, I have had the privilege of opening my heart to the world in a new and vulnerable way. To write a book is to tell a story, but to share that story with others — to see it in their hands, hear their reflections, and witness the way it resonates — is a gift beyond words. Each time someone has told me that they saw themselves in my story, or that it gave them hope, or that it simply reminded them they are not alone, I have been reminded why I chose to share this piece of myself.

To every single person who has picked up Dear Drew, attended a signing, invited me into a conversation, or written to me with your own story: thank you. You have turned this year into something sacred. What began as a deeply personal journey has become something shared, something communal. Grief, after all, is not a solitary experience, though it often feels that way. It is something we carry together, in big and small ways. You have shown me that healing is magnified when we allow our stories to meet, and that our broken places can still give birth to beauty.

None of this would have been possible without the incredible people who surround me. To my devoted team — Farras and Alyssa — thank you for your tireless dedication, your creativity, and your belief in this mission. You have carried so much of the weight behind the scenes, ensuring that this work could reach those who need it most. Your gifts, both practical and creative, have been indispensable, and I am so deeply grateful to walk alongside you.

To my family — especially my beloved children, Hope and Devin, my wonderful daughter-in-law, Callie, my sweet son Drew, and my amazing stepsons and their partners — Jourdan and Yuki, and Marc and Donnie — you are my heart. You are my constant joy, the reason I continue to believe so fully in love, resilience, and the possibility of new beginnings. Each of you, in your own way, reflects back to me the truth that even in loss, love endures. You remind me daily of what matters most, and I could not be more proud or more grateful to call you mine.

And of course, to my rambunctious puppies — Palmer, Posie, Beatrice, and Cito — thank you for filling my days with laughter, energy, and unconditional love. You remind me to play, to rest when I need to, and to find joy in the simplest of moments. Our home is brighter and happier because of you.

To my friends, who have cheered me on, encouraged me, and provided a soft place to land when I needed it — thank you. You are the quiet strength beneath everything I do, and I am reminded again and again how blessed I am to be surrounded by such love.

And to those of you I have not yet met, but who have joined me on this journey through my book, my writing, or my events — you are part of this story now. Your presence, your kindness, and your willingness to receive what I’ve shared have been a reminder that no offering is ever too small when it comes from the heart. I am deeply aware that your support is what has allowed this year to be what it has been.

Looking back, I am struck not only by the milestones — the book release, the events, the countless conversations — but also by the quiet moments in between. The handwritten notes left for me at book signings. The tearful hugs. The conversations whispered in the corners of crowded rooms where someone entrusted me with their story of loss and love. Those moments are treasures. They remind me that my journey is not separate from yours — it is connected. We are, each of us, trying to make sense of grief, trying to honor love, and trying to live into a life that feels bigger, fuller, and more authentic than the one we may have imagined in the shadow of loss.

It is easy to think of December as an ending, but to me, it feels more like a threshold. The year is not closing as much as it is preparing to open into something new. Before stepping into that newness, I am choosing to pause. To take the month of December to rest, to be present with my family, and to savor the blessings that surround me. I want to linger over the laughter at the dinner table, to soak in the quiet moments of reflection, to enjoy the simple joys that often pass too quickly in the busyness of life.

I hope that you, too, will find time to pause in your own way this season. To step back from the noise, the rush, and the demands that so often overshadow the holidays. To breathe deeply and remember what matters most. To hold close the people you love. To allow yourself to be present for both the joy and the stillness that December has to offer.

From my heart to yours, I wish you the happiest of holidays. May your days be filled with warmth, laughter, and love. May you find peace in the quiet moments and joy in the unexpected ones. And may the year ahead be one of hope, promise, and beautiful new beginnings.

With deepest gratitude and love,
Melissa

I’d love to keep the conversation going. Whether you’re looking for free resources, inspiration, healing tools, or want to dive deeper through my courses and podcast — there’s a space for you here:

Wherever you are on your healing journey, know that you’re not alone.

Melissa Hull
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Navigating Holidays After Loss: New Traditions, Same Love