Never an easy lesson of life, loss is experienced by all. And for those of us who have lost a loved one, certain holidays can become excruciating reminders of the persons we so dearly miss.

A coherent narrative helps us to integrate new information with what we already know, so that we can heal and move on. The only way I can formulate a coherent narrative about this tragedy is if all of us, collectively, use this event as a catalyst for change.

How do you celebrate the holidays in the wake of a national tragedy? How do you find life in the midst of carnage too horrible to imagine? Here's what you need to know, from the perspective of a parent who has lost their child from a catastrophic act of violence.

I knew my father could not sit at his computer to check my status updates and comments on his profile, but the mystery surrounding cyberspace and heaven seemed to fall on a similar plane. If an email can ostensibly travel through space, why couldn't my messages and posts reach my dad in heaven?

And so the days have been. It could all change tomorrow. I could be a grieving mom. I hope the day never comes. Dare I say, in a small way I grive with these moms. I am so sorry they have lost their babies. I am in awe of their courage.

Grief is a universal human experience that all of us will encounter eventually. Understanding what we can and cannot expect will help ease the process as it unfolds. Loss may change life as we know it, but the unknown is full of possibility.

Be sad, mourn and feel the loss. And then get back to living. We all need you to. As Robert Frost once wrote, "The best way out, is always through."

Diseases and conditions that once proved quickly fatal no longer are. Instead, individuals and their families are increasingly likely to find themselves mired in a protracted process that only begins with a diagnosis.

The most important and compassionate thing we can do to help those who are experiencing loss is to acknowledge that the person is having this experience and help her give herself permission to go through the mourning process.

Bearing witness to a deceased loved one is about doing whatever it takes for you to feel that you have done your part to preserve and honor his or her memory.

When Dennis was 12, he was struck by lightning and thrown close to 50 feet. He went into a coma for 40 days. When he came to, he had a different perspective: that we were all connected.

In his struggle to make sense of his grandfather's death, Jake has laid bare many seemingly unspeakable truths -- about love, loss and life itself -- for our family to face.

Given the way our culture has responded to problems such as anxiety and difficulty sleeping, it is highly likely that we stand poised to try to eradicate grief on a mass level through medication.

As a physician with a strong science background, I used to regard all things spiritual with a jaded eye--until the recent suicide of my young son, Erik.

Death, we are often told, is a natural part of life. Yet no matter how much our rational mind nods in agreement, the sudden loss of one so dear leaves victims beyond the family.

People die everyday, according to the newspaper. And then it happens to you. In your family. And it's surreal. It's the mother of all record scratches. It is the mother of all unchangeable facts.

Our home burned to the ground. We had 25 wonderful years in that house. When you go through a major loss of any kind, move toward it. You have to allow yourself to feel those feelings.