I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post a grief anniversary blog this year. It seems as if after a certain number of years, one should stop counting, but we do always count birthdays, wedding anniversaries, and other milestones, and Jeff’s death was a huge milestone date for me, so perhaps counting is still acceptable.
If that’s the case: today is the fifteenth anniversary of that painful date.
To be honest, this isn’t an especially noteworthy day. Well, except for the near-record temperature. 86 degrees! It will cool down to normal temperatures in a couple of days, so I took the opportunity to do various outside chores, such as mow the grass, pull a few weeds, maybe fertilize (I say “maybe” because I’m not sure how well the dispenser I attached to the hose works). I even took a very short walk. (Those days I had to spend on the computer updating my email address wreaked havoc on my knees, and they’re still not working as well as I hoped.) And I visited with a neighbor in the middle of the street.
In a way, I suppose, all those normal activities do make this a noteworthy day. It wasn’t that long ago that I had no plans, no place I wanted to be, nothing I particularly wanted to do. But the years passed. And here I am.
Oddly, that’s about all I have to say about this anniversary. There’s no real vestige of grief left, though I do still feel his absence, more of a vague feeling that something’s missing than the gaping hole I used to feel. Those times when the missing is more than a vague feeling, I talk to him, which helps bridge the gap. I’ve also noticed that I still dream about him, but not in any message-from-the-dead sort of way. He’s just part of the lexicon of my dreams, forgotten when I wake along with all the rest of what went through my sleeping mind.
I did get a flower today, only the second bloom in my yard so far this spring. A fitting reminder that life goes on.
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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.
Bertram's Blog 
March 27, 2025 at 4:27 pm
These anniversaries are never easy. Send you good thoughts.
March 27, 2025 at 4:32 pm
Thank you.
March 28, 2025 at 12:09 am
And indeed life *does* go on. Despite those strange moments when it seems temporarily frozen, time refuses to accommodate us, never speeding up when we’re eagerly anticipating something, nor slowing down when we would like to savour a special occasion, but often doing the complete opposite. It’s funny that way.
I remember corresponding with you back when your grief was still very painful, and your head knew time would ease it, but your heart couldn’t imagine that day ever coming. I’m so glad it finally has, and contentment has settled in so that you can enjoy simple everyday pleasures like gardening and walking and visiting. And savouring the heady fragrance of that gorgeous hyacinth!
Saying “Happy Anniversary” doesn’t feel appropriate, but time continued its forward momentum, and my prayer is that this milestone leaves you with an awareness that you have achieved much in these past fifteen years and there will undoubtedly be lots more worthy adventures in your future. Blessings to you.
March 28, 2025 at 7:30 pm
I’d forgotten that early correspondence, mostly because I’ve tried not to think of those painful years. You’re right, I knew my grief would ease but couldn’t believe how long it took. I am so very grateful for you and all the others who shared their stories and made me feel less alone.
I hope you’re right that there are more worthy adventures in my future. Right now, I seem to be in a rut, not quite knowing what will get me out of it. Luckily, there will soon be much yard work to do, so that will leave me less time to think.
Blessings to you, too.
May 23, 2025 at 8:29 am
Hi Pat,
I stumbled upon your blog recently and I just wanted to say that your sharing of your journey is very appreciated. Just reading through the early years of your journey has been very helpful to me. I cannot quite put it into words, but of all of the blogs of the widowed that I’ve read, yours resonates the most with me.
I lost my wife suddenly and unexpectedly to a cerebral hemorrhage 3 years and 22 days ago when we were both 56 years old (and having been married for 30 years). In many ways, I feel more like a toddler on my grief journey compared to where you are at now. It is funny how I feel like I’m still in the early days of my grief journey, while almost everyone in my life expects that I should have “moved on” by now. It has taken me these 3 years to finally start dreaming and thinking about the future, the things I would like to do and how I would like to live for the rest of what is now my life. Things as simple as selling our home and relocating so that I can begin anew. While I don’t have any concrete plans as of today, it feels like one of my biggest steps forward.
Seeing where you are at 15 years later gives me more hope and I’m sure it has done the same for those still early in their grief journeys.
Thank you for sharing your journey.
Michael
May 24, 2025 at 7:07 pm
One of the hard parts of grief (besides the pain and the void and the yearning and the missing) is that everyone expects you to move on quickly when in fact it takes years to get to the point where you can even think of beginning anew. Best of luck as you try to figure out what comes next. And yes, there is hope that you will someday find something beyond pain. It just takes so very, very long.