Starting a New Year Without the One You Love

The first new year without someone you love has a way of stopping time.

I lost my sister in October of 2017, and when January arrived just a few months later, the calendar felt almost cruel in its confidence. New year. Fresh start. Forward motion. Meanwhile, I was still deep in shock, staring at December 31st with the quiet realization that I was about to cross into a year she would never touch.

That New Year’s Eve was sobering. Not dramatic. Just heavy. A line in the sand I hadn’t asked for.

Grief doesn’t reset when the year changes. It doesn’t soften just because the clock strikes midnight. And yet, over time, I’ve learned that the new year can still hold meaning, if we approach it differently.

When “fresh starts” don’t fit

For those who are grieving, the language around the new year can feel disconnected. Words like resolution and new chapter don’t always land. Sometimes they sting.

If that’s you, it’s okay to opt out of the pressure to reinvent yourself. Starting a new year without someone you love isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about learning how to carry what you’ve lost into days that keep unfolding anyway.

A ritual of remembrance

Over the years, I’ve developed a simple New Year’s Eve ritual. Nothing elaborate. I take a quiet moment to think about the people I’ve lost and consider how I’ll carry their memory into the year ahead.

Sometimes that means reflecting on signs I’ve noticed before. Sometimes it’s asking, gently, what I should pay attention to. It’s less about seeking proof and more about staying open to presence.

Grief doesn’t disappear, but it does change shape when we allow room for connection.

What love leaves behind

There’s a line often attributed to Sirius Black in the Harry Potter series that has stayed with me: “The ones who love us never really leave us.”

Whether taken literally or metaphorically, that sentiment rings true. Love doesn’t end. It finds new ways to exist. Through memory. Through story. Through the values and tenderness we pass on.

Carrying stories forward

One of the ways I honor my sister and my grandparents is by sharing stories about them with my daughters. They never met these people, but they know them.

They know what made them laugh. They know what made them interesting. They know why I loved them and miss them so much. The moments that mattered.

Grief can be quiet, but remembrance doesn’t have to be. Speaking their names, telling their stories, and letting them take up space in our family narrative feels like an act of care, not sadness.

An intention instead of a resolution

Instead of a resolution, I carry an intention into the new year: to remain open. Open to guidance. Open to signs. Open to the idea that those we love may still walk alongside us in ways we don’t fully understand.

Laura Lynne Jackson’s book Guided puts language to something many of us feel but struggle to articulate. That love continues. That connection endures. That we are not navigating our paths entirely alone.

Stepping into the year ahead

Starting a new year without someone you love doesn’t mean leaving them behind. It means learning how they continue to live within you, shaping who you are becoming.

If you’re entering a new year with grief in your heart, know this: you don’t need to rush. You don’t need to reframe your pain into optimism. You only need to move forward with honesty, remembrance, and a little gentleness for yourself.

At Juliette & Genevieve, we believe grief is not something to resolve. It’s something to carry with care. As the year begins, may you allow yourself to remember freely, speak their name often, and stay open to the quiet ways love continues to find you.