Episode 179: Four tips to navigate your person’s birthday
9/2/26
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You are listening to the Life Reconstructed podcast with me, Teresa Amaral Beshwate, grief
expert, best-selling author and widow. I’m so glad you’re here because in this and every
episode, I shine a light on the widowed way forward.
Hello and welcome to episode 179. Your person’s birthday can bring up so much—the memories of
birthdays you shared, the pain of their physical absence, and the future birthdays you thought
you’d spend together. In this episode, we’ll talk about how to navigate the anticipation and the
day itself, while making room for both the grief and gratitude. Keeping in mind that there’s no
right way to do this; there’s only what you choose to try this year.
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Your person’s birthday can be one of those dates on the calendar that seems to get bigger and
heavier as it approaches.
Maybe you’re wondering what you’re supposed to do. Should you celebrate? Should you make plans?
Should you spend the day alone? Should you go to the cemetery? Should you make their favorite
meal? Should you invite other people to remember them with you?
Or maybe you don’t want to do anything at all.
Today, I want to help you think about how you might navigate your spouse’s birthday—not just the
day itself, but the days and weeks leading up to it.
And I want to start here:
There is no right way to do this.
There is no wrong way to do this.
There is only what you choose to do this year.
Adopt an experimental mindset
I think an experimental mindset is one of the most useful approaches you can take to your
person’s birthday.
You are learning.
You’re learning what feels meaningful to you. You’re learning what feels supportive and what
doesn’t. You’re learning whether you want company or solitude. Whether you want to talk about
your person all day or not at all. Whether you want to create a ritual or simply let the day
unfold.
No one else gets to tell you how to do this.
This is your spouse. Your marriage. Your relationship. Your grief.
And you don’t have to figure out what you’re going to do on their birthday for the rest of your
life.
You’re only deciding for this year.
Maybe you’ll do something this year and decide you never want to do it again.
Maybe you’ll stumble into something unexpectedly meaningful and decide you’d like to repeat it.
Maybe what feels right this year will feel completely wrong next year.
Let yourself learn.
Sometimes the anticipation is harder than the day
The second thing I want you to know is that the days—or even weeks—leading up to your person’s
birthday can be significantly harder than the birthday itself.
There’s the dread.
There’s the sadness.
There’s the fear of how you’re going to feel.
There’s the awareness that your person won’t be physically present on their birthday.
And your brain can start living that day long before it actually arrives.
When that happens, remind yourself of something very practical:
Your person’s birthday is one day.
It is less than 24 waking hours.
And when that day comes, your only real job is to draw the next breath.
And then the next one.
You do not need to know exactly how you’re going to feel. You don’t need to predict whether it
will be terrible or beautiful or some strange combination of both.
Think about a few ways you might want to spend the day.
Make a Plan A.
And make a Plan B.
Maybe Plan A involves other people and Plan B means staying home.
Maybe Plan A is dinner at their favorite restaurant and Plan B is takeout on the couch.
Maybe Plan A is visiting a meaningful place and Plan B is deciding you simply don’t have the
energy.
Changing your mind is allowed.
Remember: this is an experiment.
And when the dread shows up in the days or weeks beforehand, remind yourself:
It’s less than 24 waking hours. I don't have to live that day today. And when it comes, I’m
going to do the best I can.
Feel whatever you feel
Third, let yourself feel whatever you feel.
Of course difficult feelings are likely to be part of your person’s birthday.
Sadness. Longing. Anger. Loneliness. Maybe regret.
But other feelings might show up, too.
Gratitude. Love. Tenderness. Joy. Maybe laughter.
You might even feel numb.
Or you might discover that the day feels surprisingly ordinary.
There is no feeling you are supposed to manufacture.
And there is no feeling you need to get rid of.
Because difficult feelings tend to become exponentially more difficult when we start resisting
them, avoiding them or trying to numb them.
Now we're not just feeling sad—we're afraid of feeling sad.
We're not just lonely—we're telling ourselves we shouldn't be lonely.
We're not just grieving—we're judging ourselves for how we're grieving.
Trying not to feel something doesn't actually make the feeling go away. Usually, it just adds
another layer of suffering.
So when the feelings come, take them at face value.
This is sadness.
This is longing.
This is love.
This is what is here right now.
You don’t have to fix it.
You can simply let it be there.
Grieve their absence—and also celebrate their life
And this next part is important because I never want to diminish how difficult your person’s
birthday can be.
Of course this day is hard.
I don't want to skip over that or rush you toward something else.
Their birthday holds memories of birthdays you celebrated together.
It holds the reality that they aren't here physically for this one.
And it can bring you face-to-face with all the birthdays that are still to come—the future you
expected to share and don't get to have in the way you imagined.
That's a lot.
You don't need to turn away from any of it.
You don't need to tell yourself, I should just be grateful they were born.
Maybe people around you have said something like that.
Try to focus on the fact that they lived.
Be grateful for the years you had.
Celebrate their life.
And while those things may be well-intentioned, they can feel incredibly dismissive when what
you need is for someone to acknowledge how much it hurts that they're not physically here.
So let me acknowledge it.
It's hard.
You get to miss them.
You get to wish they were physically here.
You get to grieve the birthdays you shared, the birthday you're facing now, and all the future
birthdays you thought you'd spend together.
You get to grieve what was, what is, and what you thought would be.
And also...
When you're ready, you can make room for something else alongside the grief.
This is the day your person was born.
They lived.
They loved.
They chose you.
You knew their love when they were here physically, and you continue to know their love today.
You created something together.
You built a life. You made memories. You navigated hard things. You celebrated good things. You
became who you became, in part, because of your love for each other.
Their life changed yours.
And their love is still part of your life today.
Maybe you light a candle.
Maybe you make their favorite meal.
Maybe you play their favorite music.
Maybe you tell stories.
Maybe you look through photos.
Or maybe you simply sit quietly for a moment and think:
Your life matters.
You are loved.
And I am so glad you were born.
None of that cancels the grief.
Celebrating their life doesn't require you to stop mourning their physical absence.
There is room for both.
We aren't trying to replace grief with gratitude.
We're allowing grief and gratitude.
Absence and love.
Sorrow and celebration.
Because love lives.
And then, let yourself learn
Finally, when the birthday is over—not necessarily that night if you're exhausted, but sometime
afterward—spend a few minutes thinking about how it went.
Not to grade yourself.
Not to decide whether you did grief correctly.
Just to learn.
What went well?
What didn't go well?
What surprised you?
Was there something you thought would be difficult that wasn't?
Was there something you didn't anticipate that was harder than you expected?
Did being around other people help?
Did you wish you'd had more time alone?
Was there something you did that you definitely want to do again?
Is there something you know you don't want to repeat?
And what might you want to try next year?
This is how you learn what's best for you.
Year by year.
Birthday by birthday.
You don't need to know how to navigate your spouse's birthday forever.
You only need to decide how you want to meet it this year.
Make a Plan A. Give yourself permission to have a Plan B.
Let the feelings come.
Acknowledge the physical absence and the future you thought you would share.
And when you're ready, make some room alongside all of that for the incredible fact that your
person was born.
That they lived.
That they chose you.
That you loved them then.
That you love them now.
And that love lives.
If this episode was helpful, please share it with a widowed friend. And remember that I believe
in you, and I’m here for you. Take care.
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If you’ve found this podcast helpful, check out my newest book, Time Doesn’t Heal, Why High
Achieving Widowed People Feel Stuck, and How to Rebuild a Meaningful Life. It’s now available
on Audible, in paperback and Kindle, plus there’s an accompanying journal to help you apply what you learn. And, join the free course so I can help you even more. Links are in the show notes.
