New Year, Same Love: Finding Hope After Loss Without Letting Go

The New Year has always felt complicated to me. On one hand, it’s filled with glitter, countdowns, and the excitement of fresh starts. But after losing Drew, the turn of the calendar also became a tender reminder: time was moving forward, but part of my heart felt like it was standing still.

In those first years, January didn’t feel like a clean slate. It felt like another milestone that he wasn’t here for. I’d catch myself thinking, This is one more year farther from the last time I kissed him goodnight. One more year of holidays and milestones without him.

If you’re feeling that same weight as the New Year begins, please know you’re not alone. Grief doesn’t magically reset at midnight. It doesn’t follow the calendar the way the world tells us it should.

But what I’ve learned — slowly, gently, over time — is that the New Year can be more than a marker of distance. It can also be a space for presence. For remembering that love isn’t left behind; it walks with us into whatever comes next.

Why January Can Feel Heavy

I used to feel guilty for not wanting to make resolutions or big plans like everyone else seemed to do. The truth is, January can magnify grief. The pressure to “move forward” or “start fresh” can feel dismissive when you’re still holding so much pain.

So if you’re waking up on January 1st and feeling tired, tender, or even resentful, let me take the pressure off: you don’t have to reinvent yourself. You don’t have to set ten goals or pretend you’re fine. You only need to ask yourself: How do I want to carry love into this year?

Reflection Instead of Resolutions

Resolutions never felt right for me after loss. What has helped me more is reflection — small, honest questions that make space for love to guide me.

At the end of each year, I sometimes write these in a journal:
- What moments reminded me of love this year?
- Where did I notice a little joy, even in the ache?
- What can I bring with me into the next season?
- And maybe most importantly: What can I give myself permission to set down?

It’s less about striving and more about aligning — noticing that love is still here, even when life looks different.

Traditions That Carry Love Forward

One of the ways I’ve found comfort in the New Year is by creating simple traditions that bring Drew forward with me.

Some years I light a candle at midnight. Other years, I write him a letter — sharing what the last twelve months have held, and what I hope to carry into the next. It’s a way of reminding myself that our bond isn’t limited by time.

I’ve also started choosing a word of the year — something that reflects how I want to live with love in the year ahead. Words like peace, joy, courage, or expansion. These words become anchors when life feels overwhelming.

Maybe for you, it’s creating a memory jar to fill with little notes of gratitude and stories throughout the year. Or maybe it’s simply pausing on January 1st to speak your loved one’s name out loud and remind yourself: You are still here with me.

A Personal Example

I’ll tell you something that surprised me: over the years, New Year’s has become less about what I don’t have and more about what I still do.

On New Year’s Eve, when I look around at my family, I sometimes imagine Drew laughing right alongside us. And in my heart, he is. I’ve stopped seeing the New Year as another step away from him, and started seeing it as another year to carry him with me — in my choices, in my love, in my voice.

That shift didn’t happen overnight. It’s the result of letting myself grieve honestly, and also letting myself stay open to the love that never leaves.

A Gentle Invitation

So here’s my encouragement to you: let this New Year be less about pressure and more about permission. Permission to rest. Permission to remember. Permission to begin again, not by erasing the past, but by carrying love forward in a way that feels true for you.

You don’t have to map out the whole year right now. You only need to ask yourself: What one small way can I include love in this season of my life?

Maybe it’s creating a tradition of lighting a candle. Maybe it’s saying “yes” to something that feels aligned and “no” to what doesn’t. Maybe it’s simply whispering thank you for the moments of beauty that still arrive, even in grief.

Facing a New Year after loss will never be simple. The ache will always be there. But so will the love.

And that’s what gives me hope: every January is not just another year without Drew. It’s another year with him — carried in my heart, guiding my steps, shaping the way I live.

If you’re stepping into the New Year with grief, know this: you don’t need to start over. You don’t need to leave your loved one behind. You only need to bring love with you.

Because the New Year is not just about new beginnings. It’s about remembering that love is already here — and it always will be.

I’d love to keep the conversation going. Whether you’re looking for free resources, inspiration, healing tools, or want to dive deeper through my courses and podcast — there’s a space for you here:

Wherever you are on your healing journey, know that you’re not alone.

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A Heart Full of Gratitude: End-of-Year Reflections and Holiday Rest