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Becoming older than our older siblings or parents were when they passed is uniquely disorienting.

We might be older than they got to be, but they somehow grow older alongside us.

It's healthy for our relationships to continue to evolve, even after our people have died.

When we're grieving, there are days we expect to be particularly hard. Our person’s birthday. The anniversary of their death. The holidays we always spent together.

And then there are the days that catch us off guard. The ones where we run into someone who hadn’t heard our person died. Or when we see someone who has an uncanny resemblance to the one we’ve lost.

But there’s another category altogether that can bring us to our knees: milestone birthdays of our own that bring us face-to-face with our loss.

I should explain at the outset that I’m a big fan of birthdays. I like being feted. I love getting presents as much as I love giving them. And I can think of nothing more celebratory than chocolate cake with lit candles waiting to be wished upon.

But this week was my birthday, and I dreaded it for a full month before. This was the birthday when I would........

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