Hard dates
The first anniversary
A year. The date has been sitting on the calendar for months, and now it is close. Maybe you have been counting down without meaning to. Maybe it crept up on you, and you only noticed when you wrote the date on something. Either way, it is allowed to be hard.
The days before are often worse
Many people find the build-up harder than the day itself. The dread grows through the week, sleep gets thinner, and small things set off waves. Then the day comes, and it is sad, but it can also feel almost like a relief. It arrived, and you are still here.
The psychologist Therese Rando called these surges “subsequent temporary upsurges of grief”. She described them as common, even many years later, and a normal part of grieving. They don’t mean you have gone backwards. Dates set them off, and so can seasons, music, places and smells.
The run-up to a first anniversary often brings back the last weeks: where you were a year ago today, what you didn’t know yet. If your mind keeps replaying it, that is common too. It may help to say so to someone, rather than carrying it alone.
A small plan
A plan helps, as long as it stays small. A big plan can turn into one more thing to get right. Three questions are often enough.
Who will I be with, or who will I tell?
It might be family, one friend, or no one in person but a message to someone who will check in. Being alone is fine if that is what you want. Just let one person know, so the day isn’t completely unseen.
One small ritual
Something that honours them, small enough to do on a heavy day. Light a candle. Cook their favourite meal. Walk somewhere they loved. Play the song. Write them a letter. Visit the grave, or choose not to. There is no right way to mark it.
A way out
Decide in advance what you will do if it gets too much: leave early, go for a walk, have an early night, cancel without explaining. Knowing the way out is there often makes it easier to stay.
Some families mark the day together. Others need to spend it alone, or treat it as an ordinary day and go to work. All of these are fine, and they can change from one year to the next.
What people get wrong
Many people won’t know whether to mention the date. Some will say nothing, worried they will remind you, as if you could forget. Some will think a year is long enough and expect you to be “doing better”. Others will remember, and that can be a surprise, and a lovely one.
It helps to tell people what you would like, because most of them are guessing. A short message is enough: “It’s a year on Friday. I’d love it if you said her name.” Or: “I’m keeping the day quiet. A text would mean a lot.”
Some people find the second year harder in its own way. The shock has worn off, and the people around them have stopped asking. If that happens to you, you are not getting worse. Hard dates can stay hard for years, and planning for them can stay a kindness.
If the weeks around the date feel too heavy to carry, or dark thoughts come, please talk to someone. In the UK and Ireland, Samaritans answer on 116 123. In the US and Canada, call or text 988. Anywhere else, call your local emergency number. You can also find a free helpline at findahelpline.com.
Let something remember it with you
Firlight is a private grief companion for Android. You can add birthdays and anniversaries to Hard dates. Firlight shows a gentle note in the weeks before and, if you turn reminders on, a quiet reminder seven days before and the day before. There is room to write your small plan, so it is ready when the week arrives. See Firlight on Google Play.
This page adapts a lesson from Firlight’s Grief Path. Firlight is not therapy, and it is not an emergency service.