Episode 26: Kevin's Birthday...And The Weight Milestones Still Carry

In this episode of The Widow’s Collective Podcast, I share a personal reflection on Kevin’s birthday — what would have been his 43rd — and explore why certain milestone days in grief never quite lose their weight.

Grief doesn’t follow a predictable timeline, and milestone days like birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, or even ordinary Sundays can catch you off guard, stirring up emotions you might have thought you’d moved past. I talk about:

• Why milestone days carry a different kind of weight, even years after your loss.
• How anticipatory grief and the “before/after” contrast affect the way we experience significant dates.
• Why it’s normal for milestone days to hit differently each year — sometimes heavier, sometimes lighter, sometimes unexpectedly.
• The importance of letting these days meet you where you are instead of forcing them to feel a certain way.
• How to carry, rather than “get over,” milestone grief, and find the spaces in between the waves of emotion.
• Practical ways to honor yourself on milestone days without pressure, guilt, or expectation.

Whether you’re approaching a milestone day or navigating one that’s already here, this episode is a gentle reminder that you are not alone. Your grief is valid. Your love is enduring. And your way of moving through it is enough.

🌿 Resources & Support Mentioned in This Episode

• Work With Me: If you’re looking for guidance on navigating milestone days and all the days in between, I offer one-on-one grief coaching. Details in the show notes.

💌 Connect & Stay in Touch

• Website & Coaching Info: [laurenlentz.com]
• Instagram Account: [@imsorrywerefriends]
• Free Resource – Just Breathe: [Link to freebie]

❤️ A Note to You

Milestones don’t stop mattering just because time has passed. What you had… mattered. And it still does. And what could have been… matters too. Take a breath. Be gentle with yourself. You are doing enough.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:07

Welcome to the Widows Collective, where grief meets hope, healing, and community. I'm Lauren Lentz, grief coach, fellow widow, and the heart behind this space. There is life before loss, and then there is life after. If you're here, it likely means your life has been turned upside down by the death of your person. Maybe you've just found yourself in this new world that feels unrecognizable, or maybe you've been walking it for a while, trying to figure out what healing looks like now. I want you to know you are not alone. This podcast is a gathering place for widows living in the after. Together, we'll name the ache, honor the love, and share tools, truths, and stories that help you feel supported along the way. My hope is that every episode gives you a sense of community, comfort, and permission to meet yourself exactly where you are. And even now, over six years later, there's something about saying that out loud that still feels a bit surreal. Like most of me understands the truth. And yet there is still this small part of me that kind of rejects it all at the same time. And I think that's the thing about these milestone days. There's just something about them that carries a different kind of weight. And if you've experienced loss, which is probably why you're listening, you know exactly what I mean. Because it's not just another day, it's a date that holds significance, a date that holds memories, that in some ways marks the life that was and the life it is now. And thinking about Kevin's birthday this week, it brought me right back to those early days after he died. Back then, every single day felt like a countdown to something. A holiday without him, a birthday, an anniversary, a wedding. Even the smallest things felt like milestones. Watching our son go from barely walking to running, hearing him start to speak in full sentences. And instead of just feeling pride or joy, there was this deep ache underneath it all. Knowing he should be here for this. Even making it through a Sunday, which used to be our family day, felt excruciating. It wasn't just that we made it through another Sunday. It was we made it through another Sunday without him. And everything felt like that. Everything felt significant, like something I had to brace myself for. And I think in those early days of grief, all of this felt so permanent. Is it always going to be this way? Am I going to count down the days, the moments to the next hard something for the rest of my life? Because grief isn't only about mourning the person that's gone. It's about processing and moving through all of the things they're going to miss. It's the constant anticipation of the moments you're going to have without them. And it can feel like you're just waiting for the next thing that's going to hurt. And then over time, something in me started to shift. Not in a big, obvious way, more subtly. Something that I really didn't even notice at first. I started to learn how to live again in the in-between moments. Sundays didn't feel like such a milestone anymore. I started to settle into my new rhythm, a new normal. And they became Sundays again, not just a reflection of what used to be our day. There were moments where I could be present without constantly thinking about what was missing. Moments where I could laugh or enjoy something or just be without the heavy overlay of grief sitting on top of everything. And for a while, I really believed that maybe that meant I had moved past the hardest parts, the hardest days. Like as time went on, these milestone days would just soften or fade. That maybe they wouldn't hit the same way anymore. But and this is the part I really want to talk about today. Even after six years, the milestone days can still sneak up on you. Sometimes you know they're coming. You can feel it building. It might show up in your body first before your mind even catches up. Maybe you feel a little more emotional, irritable, on edge, or more tired. Like your system is holding something, even if you haven't named it yet. And then you look at the calendar and you realize, oh, that's why. It's the week, it's the day. And other times it doesn't feel like that at all. It feels like it comes completely out of nowhere. You're going about your day, and all of a sudden you feel this wave of emotion hit you. And you're thinking, why am I feeling this right now? And then it clicks. And I think that's what's really important to understand here is that this isn't you going backwards or staying stuck. This doesn't mean you're not healing. This is actually a very normal part of how grief works because your body remembers, your nervous system remembers. Even when you're not consciously thinking about that specific date, your system is holding on to it. There's something called anticipatory grief that happens around milestones, where your body starts preparing for the emotional impact before you even realize it's happening. And on top of that, there's a contrast, the before and the after. Because milestones are markers of time. And when you've lost someone, time becomes divided. There's the life before they were gone, and there's the life after. And every birthday, every anniversary, every holiday, every something that comes up where you wish you could talk to them about it or celebrate it with them highlights that divide in a way that's hard to ignore. Experiencing life on a timeline of the before and the after can be really disorienting. Because on one hand, your life has continued. It has to continue. You keep putting one foot in front of the other. You're ever so slowly learning how to rebuild. You're starting to carry this truth in ways you didn't think you could in the beginning. And from the outside, sometimes it can look like you are quote unquote doing better. But then a day like this comes and it doesn't ask how long it's been. It doesn't measure your progress. It doesn't care how resilient you've become. It just lands. And suddenly you're right back in that space where the absence feels loud again. Not because you've gone backwards, but because love doesn't operate on a timeline. And that's really what sits underneath all this. It's not just about the date itself, it's about what the date represents. A birthday isn't just a birthday. It's another year they should be here, another year they didn't get to live, another year you're living without them. And that's not something your heart just gets used to. That's not something that just fades away with time. And sometimes these days bring up even more than the ache of missing them in the present. They bring up thoughts of who they would be if they were still here. What would they look like now? What would they be doing? Would life be wildly different or somewhat the same? Those imagined possibilities, what might have been, layer on top of the grief you already feel. And it can just make that day hit even harder. So if you find yourself in these moments thinking, why is it still so challenging? Shouldn't I be further along by now? Why does it hit me like this? I want you to know that milestones don't stop mattering just because time has passed. Because what you had mattered and it still does. And what could have been matters too. And I think something else that can be a bit confusing is how unpredictable these days can feel. You might go into a milestone thinking this is going to be really hard. And then parts of the day feel okay or even light. Maybe you laugh, maybe you feel connected, maybe you have moments where you're not thinking about it at all. And then out of nowhere, boom, a song, a memory, a quiet moment when everything slows down and the weight comes rushing back in and the tears start flowing. Or sometimes it's the opposite. You brace yourself for that day to feel heavy and it doesn't hit the way you expect it to. And then there's just this mixture of emotions, relief, and guilt all at the same time, thinking things like, shouldn't this feel harder? Or am I okay with this feeling lighter? And that in itself is just such a mental game, right? Because there's no predictable way these days unfold. And I think that's part of what makes them so hard. And over time, what does begin to change is your relationship with these days. In the beginning, it can feel like you're completely taken under by the wave, like you have no control over what's happening, like you're just trying to survive the day. But slowly, you start to learn how to be with it, to understand what you need. You start to recognize what helps and what doesn't. You start to give yourself permission to move through the day in a way that actually feels supportive instead of trying to do it the right way. That's the other thing about milestones in grief. There is no right way to do them. And even if you think you know how it's going to feel, there's a good chance it won't unfold exactly that way. Some years you might want to plan something, be around people, share memories, celebrate their life. And other years you might want it to be quiet. You might want to pull back, be alone, or be on vacation, move through the day gently. And both of those are okay. You don't have to do it the same every year. You don't have to create meaning if it doesn't feel natural. You don't have to show up in a certain way just because you think you should. And for me personally, Kevin's birthday has looked different every single year. Some years I've done something intentional, throw in a birthday party, cook something that he would really enjoy. Other years, it's much quieter, family time or alone time. But what I've learned is that I don't have to force the day into something. I don't have to make it grand. I don't have to do it perfectly. I just have to be honest about where I am in that moment and allow whatever shows up on that day to be able to show up for me. If you have a milestone coming up, I want you to consider this. What would it look like to let the day meet you where you are instead of trying to meet some expectation of what the day should look like? What would it look like to support yourself in it instead of pushing yourself through it? Because milestones in grief, they're not something that we get over. There's something we learn to carry. There's something we learn to move with. And over time, that movement can feel a little more familiar, a little more manageable. You may start to notice the spaces in between the waves, moments where you can breathe, remember, smile, laugh, or simply exist. But that doesn't mean the weight disappears. It just becomes a part of the rhythm of your life, a part of how love continues to live even in absence. Even when it lands hard, when it surprises you, when you feel heavy or raw, you're still moving through it. You're still holding them in your heart. You're still showing up for yourself in ways that matter. And that is more than enough. I want you to pause for a moment and just acknowledge that. For the courage it takes to navigate these days, for the love that still pulses through the ache, for the resilience that keeps you moving forward, even when the calendar reminds you of what you miss. You're not alone. You're not doing grief wrong. You are human, living the human experience. So if today happens to be a milestone for you too, or a milestone day is right around the corner, I'm holding you in it. I honor what you're feeling. You are a part of a sea of widows who are learning to navigate all of this too, even when it feels like you're the only one. And however this day meets you, whether it feels heavy or quiet or somewhere in between, there is nothing about your experience that is wrong. You are allowed to feel it all. You are allowed to move through it in your own way. And before we go, if this episode spoke to you and you're looking for someone to walk alongside you as you navigate milestone days like this, and all of the days in between, I'm here. This is the kind of work I do every single day, and I would truly be honored to support you. You can find more information in the show notes. And if you're here just to feel a little more seen and a little more understood, I honor that too. I hope that something, some message in here spoke to you today and made you just feel a little less alone. Until next time, big hugs and lots of love. You've been listening to the Widows Collective. I'm Lauren Lentz, and it means so much to me that you spent this time here today. If you found comfort or connection in today's episode, I invite you to please subscribe, leave a rating, or share it with someone who might need a little support. You can also follow me on Instagram at I'm Sorry We're Friends, and join my email list at LaurenLentz.com to explore my one-to-one grief coaching, group program, retreats, and other tools designed to help widows navigate loss with understanding and guidance. I hope you'll join me next week for another conversation where we'll continue exploring grief, healing, and ways to reimagine life after loss. I'm sorry you're here, and I'm so grateful that you are. Thank you for being a part of this community. Your presence is an act of courage and self compassion, and I'm honored to walk this path alongside you.