The Second Year of Grief: What No One Tells You

There is a pretty well-accepted belief about grieving: the first year is the hardest. The loss feels so new, and the first months can pass in a blur of shock and disbelief.

This is especially true after a sudden loss, but it can also surprise people when they experience “shock” even after a loved one has died following a long and difficult illness.

I’ve said it many times: nothing, and I mean NOTHING, can prepare us for the finality of death.

Navigating that first year—through anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays—can feel endless. Most assume that if they can just get through that year, things should become smoother in the days ahead.

And then year two begins.

The second Mother’s Day without a mom. The second wedding anniversary without a spouse. The second Christmas without a child. The grieving person may find themselves thinking, “this isn’t any easier.”

Some have even shared with me that the second year felt harder. Perhaps it’s because of expectations—hoping to feel better, only to end up feeling more disappointed and sad when they didn’t. Or maybe it’s because as time passes, we’ve simply had more days without our loved one. More time since we’ve heard their voice, seen their smile, or felt their presence.

For those who are newly bereaved, this can feel like a terrifying thought. I don’t share it to discourage anyone in the very early days, but to validate those who wonder why things don’t always get “easier” with time.

Expectations play a huge role in our mindset, whether or not we are grieving. How much better do we enjoy a movie or party that we thought was going to be awful? How much more disappointed are we when a long-planned vacation-of-a-lifetime doesn’t live up to our hopes?

If ever there was a time to set realistic expectations for ourselves, it’s during grief.

Throw away the timelines.

Don’t compare yourself to others who have experienced loss. The coworker who returned to work smiling only days after her father died? She was crying every day in her car. The family member who thinks that 18 months after your husband died you“should” be dating again? She has no idea what your love felt like, or what is right for you.

Be patient with yourself. Be patient with those who don’t understand. Don’t expect today to be hard and tomorrow to be easy. Honor where you are in this moment. Even if it feels uncomfortable, unsettling, and uncertain, it may be exactly where you need to be.

Stay open to the possibility of hope and healing—but don’t force a deadline for their arrival.