How to Get Through the First Year After a Death Loss

The phone call came at 2 AM. The text message arrived while you were at work. The knock on the door changed everything. However the news reached you, nothing could have prepared you for this moment when your world shifted completely.

If you're reading this in the early fog of loss, or maybe you're several months in and feeling like you should be "better" by now, I want you to know something: there's no right way to do this. The first year after losing someone you love isn't a problem to solve or a mountain to climb with a clear summit. It's more like learning to live with a completely different landscape, one where the familiar landmarks have changed forever.

What does getting through the first year after a death loss actually look like?

Getting through the first year after a death loss means giving yourself permission to experience grief as it comes, without rushing toward an imaginary finish line. It's about finding small ways to honour both your pain and your continuing love while building a life that holds space for both your loss and your healing.

How do you handle the "firsts" that feel impossible?

Those calendar pages ahead of you might feel heavy with dread. The first birthday without them. Their empty chair at holiday dinner. The anniversary of their death approaching like a storm cloud.

Here's what I've learned walking alongside people through these moments: anticipating is often harder than the actual day. Your mind might build these dates up as impossible mountains to climb, but when you're actually there, you might find you have more strength than you imagined.

Planning can be your friend here.

For their birthday, maybe you take the day off work entirely. Or perhaps you plan to visit their favourite coffee shop with a friend who knew them well. Some people find comfort in creating new traditions, like donating to a cause they cared about or cooking their signature dish. Others prefer to let the day unfold without pressure.

The key is flexibility. You might wake up on that difficult day feeling completely different than you expected. That's okay too. Give yourself permission to change plans, to feel whatever comes up, to be messy about it.

Questions to consider:

• What would feel most supportive to you on difficult days?

• Who in your circle really gets it and could sit with you?

• How can you honour your person while also being gentle with yourself?

  
  

Why might some days feel harder than others, even months later?

Three months in, you might have what feels like a "good" day, only to be blindsided by grief the next morning. Six months later, a song on the radio might bring you to your knees in the grocery store. This isn't you moving backwards. This isn't you doing grief "wrong."

Grief moves in waves, not straight lines. Sometimes the wave is a gentle lapping at your feet. Sometimes it's a tsunami that knocks you flat. Both are normal. Both are part of how love continues even after death.

For BIPOC folks, these waves might crash against additional layers of complexity. Maybe your workplace doesn't recognize your cultural mourning practices. Perhaps your family's way of grieving feels at odds with the individualistic grief narrative you see everywhere else. Your grief might carry the weight of systemic losses too, the ongoing impact of racism and discrimination that your person faced, the exhaustion of having to be strong all the time.

For LGBTQ+ individuals, grief can feel even more isolating when the world didn't fully recognize your relationship or when family dynamics are complicated. Maybe you're grieving your chosen family member while biological family gets all the "official" recognition. Perhaps you're holding space for a relationship that others couldn't see or understand the depth of.

Your grief deserves space and recognition, whatever form it takes.

Key reminders for difficult days:

• Grief isn't linear, and waves are normal

• Your relationship was real and deserving of full mourning

• Cultural and identity factors can complicate grief, and that's valid

• Bad days don't erase progress you've made

• You don't have to perform strength for anyone else

What if the second year feels harder than the first?

Here's something people don't talk about enough: sometimes the second year, or even the third, can feel more difficult than the first. I know this might sound discouraging if you're hoping the first year is the hardest part, but hear me out.

That first year often comes with a kind of protective shock. Your community might rally around you. People expect you to be struggling. There's often practical stuff to handle that keeps you moving, even when you don't want to.

But as time moves forward, you might find yourself thinking, "It's been a whole year since I heard their voice." The finality can hit differently. The world expects you to be "over it" while you're realizing that grief isn't something you get over, it's something you grow around.

This doesn't mean your future years will automatically be harder. Every year ends up being different. Year two might bring unexpected moments of joy alongside the continued missing. Year three might surprise you with how much you've learned to carry their love forward.

Don't borrow trouble from future years. Each one will bring its own texture of grief and healing.

How do you build a support system when grief feels so isolating?

Grief can make you feel like you're speaking a different language from everyone around you. People might offer platitudes that feel hollow or avoid you because they don't know what to say. This is when intentionally building your grief support becomes essential.

Look for people who can sit with your pain without trying to fix it. This might be a grief counsellor who understands the unique challenges you face as someone from your community. It could be a support group where others get the cultural or identity-specific aspects of your loss. Sometimes it's that one friend who texts you on random Wednesdays just to check in.

Professional support can be life-changing. 

Working with someone who understands the intersection of grief with your cultural background, your identity, your family dynamics, can provide the kind of deep understanding that helps you feel less alone in this process. If you're in Surrey, Coquitlam, Greater Vancouver, or anywhere online, there are counsellors who specialize in walking alongside BIPOC and LGBTQ+ folks through grief and loss.

Building your support network:

• Identify 2-3 people who can handle your hard days

• Consider professional support that understands your cultural context

• Look for grief support groups that feel culturally relevant

• Don't be afraid to let people know specifically how they can help

• Remember that different people might support you in different ways

Taking Each Day, Month, Year As It Comes

Getting through the first year isn't about reaching a point where the grief ends. It's about learning to live with the grief as a companion rather than an enemy. It's about finding ways to keep your person's memory alive while also allowing yourself to experience joy, connection, and hope again.

Some days you'll feel guilty for laughing. Other days you'll worry you're forgetting them when the pain isn't as sharp. Both of these experiences are part of the long path of grief. Your love for them doesn't diminish because you're learning to live again. Your healing doesn't dishonour their memory.

The first year teaches you that you're stronger than you knew, more resilient than you imagined, and capable of holding seemingly contradictory truths: that you can miss them deeply while also finding reasons to be grateful you're alive.

This journey of grief and healing doesn't have to be walked alone. If you're looking for support that honours your cultural background, your identity, and the unique relationship you had with your person, I'm here. Whether you're in Surrey, Coquitlam, Greater Vancouver, or connecting online, there's space for your story and your grief exactly as they are.

Ready to explore grief support that feels right for you? I'd love to connect for a consultation where we can talk about what support might look like in your unique situation.

Frequently Asked Questions

How long does the first year of grief typically last? There's no timeline for grief, and the "first year" isn't a countdown to being "over it." The first year involves experiencing all the "firsts" without your person, but healing continues well beyond that marker.

Is it normal to feel worse some days than others during the first year? Absolutely. Grief comes in waves, and some days will feel harder than others. This doesn't mean you're moving backwards in your healing.

What if my family or culture has different expectations about how long I should grieve? Cultural and family expectations about grief can add pressure to an already difficult process. It's okay to honour your own pace while respectfully engaging with your community's traditions.

Should I make major life changes during the first year after a loss? Generally, it's recommended to avoid major decisions when possible during early grief. However, every situation is unique, and sometimes changes feel necessary for healing.

How do I know if I need professional grief support? If grief is significantly impacting your daily functioning, relationships, or overall wellbeing, or if you're feeling stuck or overwhelmed, professional support can be incredibly helpful.