Susan Rardon
Rose, Ph.D.
Mardi Gras — or Fat Tuesday— is a time of vibrant colors, joyous parades, and community celebration. It’s a season known for feasting, music, and revelry before the reflective period of Lent. But what happens when your heart is heavy with grief? How do you embrace a holiday centered on joy when loss has dimmed your world?
This year, as the beads are worn and sometimes thrown and the music plays, you might find yourself in the tension of celebration and sorrow. Grief does not wait for the calendar to clear. It doesn’t pause for festivals or holidays. It moves in, uninvited, and lingers — especially in the moments when life moves on without the one you love.
Mardi Gras has long been associated with the idea of letting go, living fully, and embracing joy. But for those in grief, joy can feel like a foreign concept, or worse, a betrayal. If you've ever felt guilty for smiling or laughing amid loss, you’re not alone. The world keeps spinning, the music keeps playing, and yet your heart feels stuck in the silence of missing someone.
But maybe, just maybe, Mardi Gras offers something deeper than surface-level celebration. Perhaps it's an invitation — not to ignore grief, but to embrace the complexity of both sorrow and joy.
Rather than resisting the festivities, what if we allowed ourselves to see them through a different lens? Mardi Gras, at its core, is about life — about remembering that even in hardship, we are still here, still breathing, still capable of finding beauty.
Below are a few ways to honor a loved one while participating in Mardi Gras, even in the depths of grief:
Grief is unpredictable. Some moments might allow for laughter and dancing, while others might pull you back into sorrow. Both are okay. Both are part of this journey.
If all you can manage is a quiet moment of reflection while others celebrate, that is enough. If you find yourself smiling at the sight of a parade, let that be okay too. There is no right or wrong way to grieve, just as there is no right or wrong way to celebrate.
Mardi Gras reminds us that life is fleeting, but it is also resilient. Even in the wake of loss, love remains. And perhaps, in the swirl of purple, green, and gold, in the laughter of friends and the rhythm of a brass band, we can find glimpses of the joy our loved one would want for us.
The day after Mardi Gras, Ash Wednesday arrives, marking the beginning of Lent—a season of reflection, surrender, and ultimately, hope. It is a reminder that from dust we came, and to dust we shall return. But it is also a reminder that even in mourning, we are never alone. God walks with us through every tear, every memory, every small step forward.
So this Mardi Gras, whether you celebrate outwardly or simply in your heart, may you find comfort in knowing that grief and joy can coexist. May you remember that your love for the one you lost is not diminished by your laughter—it is honored by your living.
And may you hold on to the promise that even in the darkest nights, light still shines. 💜💚💛
I am a school counselor turned counselor educator, professor, and author helping educators and parents to build social, emotional, and academic growth in ALL kids! The school counseling blog delivers both advocacy as well as strategies to help you deliver your best school counseling program.
I'm a mother, grandmother, professor, author, and wife (I'll always be his). Until October 20, 2020, I lived with my husband, Robert (Bob) Rose, in Louisville, Ky. On that awful day of October 20,2020, my life profoundly changed, when this amazing man went on to Heaven. After Bob moved to Heaven, I embraced my love of writing as an outlet for grief. Hence, the Grief Blog is my attempt to share what I learned as a Counselor in education with what I am learning through this experience of walking this earth without him. My mission is to help those in grief move forward to see joy beyond this most painful time.
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