This article is for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical, legal, or financial advice. Always consult with qualified professionals regarding your specific situation.

The first year without them — holidays, birthdays, and ordinary Tuesdays

The first year without someone is a long calendar of triggers. Every holiday, every birthday, every season reminds you that they're not here to experience it. The first Christmas without them. The first New Year. The first spring. These big marked moments come loaded with expectation and memory.

But the hardest moments are often not the holidays. The hardest moments are Tuesday afternoons when they used to call. The ordinary days when their absence hits you not because you're expecting it, but because something small reminds you that they're gone. The seat at the dinner table that's empty. The way you reach for the phone and then remember. The small shocks of missing them scattered throughout your ordinary life.

Getting through the first year is not about getting over it. It's about building a new life that has room for their absence. It's about figuring out new traditions or deciding which old traditions still matter. It's about surviving the hard days and then surviving the next ordinary Tuesday.

Holidays

The first holiday without them is going to be hard. Whether it's Christmas or Hanukkah or Thanksgiving or just New Year's Day, the first time you don't have them there is a reminder that they're really gone.

Some families try to make the holiday exactly the same, hoping that routine will help. The same menu. The same decorations. The same people gathered. But the absence is so loud in these moments. The chair they would sit in is empty. The dish they loved is not being eaten. The particular way they would laugh at an old joke is missing.

Other families change everything. Different day. Different place. Different people. Different traditions. Sometimes this helps. Sometimes it just emphasizes the absence in a different way.

What helps is being intentional. Deciding ahead of time what you want to do. Do you want to gather with family? Do you want to be alone? Do you want to do something completely different to mark that this year is not like other years? Do you want to honor the person in some specific way? Light a candle. Say their name. Tell a story about them.

Some people find that doing something in the person's memory helps. Making their favorite food. Donating to a cause they cared about. Writing them a letter. Volunteering. These are ways of keeping them present on days when their absence is loudest.

Some people find it helps to lower expectations for the holidays. You don't have to have a big celebration. You don't have to pretend to be okay. You can be sad. You can cry. You can take the day quietly and let it be sad.

You can also have joy. These things exist together. You can be sad that they're not here and also enjoy a moment with people you love. Grief and joy coexist in the first year.

Birthdays

Their birthday comes and you get to experience that absence again. This is another day when the world should be celebrating them and they're not here to be celebrated.

Some people mark the day quietly. Some people gather with people who loved them and talk about the person. Some people do something that was special to the person. Some people try to ignore it and just get through it.

There is no right thing to do. Do what feels right for you. If you want to acknowledge the day, you can. If you want to let it pass without acknowledgment, you can do that too. You're not obligated to celebrate or grieve in any particular way.

As the years go on, birthdays might get easier or they might stay hard. Some people feel less connected to the person as years pass. Some people find that the birthday becomes a moment of connection, a day to remember them with softness instead of pain.

Ordinary days

What often surprises people is that the ordinary days are harder than the marked ones. You can prepare yourself for Christmas. You can prepare yourself for their birthday. But you can't prepare for Tuesday afternoon when you suddenly remember how they used to call, or the specific way they folded towels, or a joke they would have found funny.

These small shocks come without warning. You'll be in the grocery store and see something they loved and your chest tightens. You'll see someone who looks like them from behind and your heart jumps for a second. You'll hear a song and want to tell them about it. You'll see something on the news and wish you could talk to them about it.

These moments are manageable. They're sharp but they're brief. You can feel the grief and then move on. You can be in the grocery store and cry in the produce section and nobody cares. You can feel what you feel and keep living.

Small shocks

There are moments when you forget for a second that they're gone, and then you remember, and it hits you again. This is especially common in the first months, but it can happen years later.

You might reach for the phone to call them and then remember. You might set the table and forget they won't be eating. You might start to tell someone a story about them and then realize they're the only ones who are gone. You might plan something and think about inviting them before you remember.

These small shocks hurt because they're a double loss: you lose them again in that moment of remembering.

But they become less frequent. As time passes, it becomes more automatic: you don't expect them to be here. You don't reach for the phone. You don't set a place. These small shocks fade.

Traditions that continue

Some families maintain traditions from before the death. The annual dinner. The holiday gathering. The specific activities. If these traditions still feel meaningful, keeping them alive keeps a connection with the person alive.

But sometimes the tradition changes. Maybe you still gather but with different people. Maybe you still have the meal but at a different time or different place. Maybe you add to the tradition in honor of the person. Maybe you let the tradition go entirely.

What matters is what feels right for your family. If you want to keep the tradition exactly as it was, you can try. You'll feel their absence in the tradition, but you'll also feel their presence through it.

If you want to change the tradition or let it go, that's also okay. You're not abandoning the person. You're adapting. You're allowing your grief and your life to change.

New traditions can emerge. Maybe you all gather on a different day. Maybe you start a new activity to honor them. Maybe you scatter their ashes on a particular day each year. New traditions are ways of building your life around the absence instead of expecting the absence to fit into the life you had.

How to get through

Get through the first year by taking it one day at a time. Some days that's enough. Some days you need to take it one hour at a time. Some people find that marking off the calendar helps: this day is done, we survived it, we move to the next one.

Have people around you. You don't have to face the hard days alone, and you shouldn't. Let people know that these days are hard. Let them help.

Be gentle with yourself. You're not supposed to be fine. You're allowed to cry on holidays. You're allowed to have bad days. You're allowed to feel whatever you feel.

The first year is a full rotation of triggers. By the time you reach the first anniversary of the death, you've been through all the major holidays and markers. You've survived them. The second year is usually easier, though there are still hard days. The third year easier still.

You don't have to forget them. You don't have to stop missing them. You just have to keep living, and as time passes, living gets slightly easier even though missing them doesn't completely go away.

How To Help Your Elders is an informational resource for families working through aging and elder care. We are not medical professionals, attorneys, or financial advisors. The information provided here is for educational purposes and should not replace professional consultation. Every family's situation is unique, and rules, costs, and availability vary by location and circumstance.