I have read and have had some people say that the second year after a Loss, the death of a loved one, is harder than the first. In my experience it has been HARD. Not necessarily harder but different.

When we lost or daughter, Katherine, to a birth accident in 1992, I was inconsolable. For a couple of days. Then I screwed myself up and realized I was her father and had to adopt that role. I also had the obligation to bring home a paycheck. So I put my Grief on hold. Until Katie died in September of the same year. After that the floodgates opened and I began a year of introspection and mourning that finally peaked on Father’s Day 1993.

Unbeknownst to me, my wife, Linda, had awakened in the middle of the night, every night during Katie’s life, and cried her guts out in our master bathroom. I needed to get up at 4:30 AM since we were on Mountain Time and I was a Wall Street trader and had to operate on New York hours, arriving at the office at 6 AM MT.

This experience of Linda’s is chronicled in the first chapter of my novel, Sun Valley Moon Mountains, the first in the trilogy I wrote, The Ur Legend, where I tried to give Katie a life she never got to live.

So when Katie died on September 9, 1992, I was finally able to begin the process of dealing with her Loss. So, yes, in that case the second year was harder because I delayed grieving for almost a year. And Linda was seven months ahead of me in the process. But we dealt well with the fact that we were sometimes out of phase.

The Loss of my wife, Linda, to ALS in November of 2023 was different. The first year was stressful and chaotic for me. Those of you who have lost a spouse can relate. First, even though Linda’s death was anticipated because of her condition, there was still an element of shock. And the blizzard of detail that had to be dealt with was dizzying. Banks, brokerage accounts, IRAs, taxes, insurance and always the lawyers. To an extent those demanding tasks were a diversion from the enormity of the event. Still, every day, countless times my chest would tighten and my eyes would tear up. It was nonstop.

At last all of the crushing detail subsided toward the end of 2024. Then I woke up on Jan 1, 2025 and stood in our silent, empty living room. It hit me. A question. “So this is it?” I still had to deal with the mundane quiddities of daily life but without someone with whom to share them. I experienced a state of Anhedonia, an absence of pleasure. flatness.

Is this year ‘Harder’ than last? I wouldn’t say it is, but it is hard in a very different way. It is not easier. Again just different. Will it get better? Sure. Time heals all wounds to an extent, but never completely. Time just leaves a scar.