While being a widowed parent is hard enough, there are three days that I dread more than others: the anniversary of my late husband’s death (a.k.a his “deathiversary”), his birthday and Father’s Day. For us I’ve found that it was best to address the days head on and make a plan for them, rather than ignoring them.

Father’s/Mother’s Day – This one really sucks. Everyone in the country openly celebrating their parent just reminds your child of who they’re missing. To boot, Mother’s Day is during the school year and, often in elementary school, teachers will do some sort of craft in school in preparation for the day. I suggest asking the teacher in advance if any such activity is planned so you can keep your child at home that day or, even better, it would be nice if the teacher could reconsider doing the activity.

The timing of Father’s Day is late enough that the school year is usually over, fortunately. On this day, we usually start by going to the cemetery and bringing something, like a potted plant, to his grave. Then we go to either lunch at his favorite restaurant or I take my daughter out for Peachwave frozen yogurt, where he used to take her. We then typically go to my parents’ house to have dinner with my Dad. She doesn’t seem to mind this part, although the cruel irony of my dad (her grandfather) still being alive, while hers isn’t makes me feel guilty.

His Birthday – My daughter and I decided to celebrate this day as if he were alive. Our original idea was to go on an adventure that he would’ve enjoyed. The first year, we played hooky from work and school and went to a world’s fair/amusement park for the day. The second year, we went to an indoor ropes course, then spent the rest of the day exploring New Haven, a small city nearby. In the following years, my daughter didn’t want to miss school so we still do something fun, but not necessarily on that day. We also visit the cemetery and have a meal at his favorite restaurant and then go out for Peachwave frozen yogurt.

The “Deathiversary” – This one was the worst for me and, the first year, the weeks leading up to it were particularly bad. What added to how bad it was was that most people don’t remember the day, unless you tell them, and don’t realize what a tough time you’re having. My therapist suggested volunteering on this day for a charity that my husband supported, and we loved that idea. The first year, we made cat blankets for the local animal shelter because he liked cats. Every year since then, we’ve shopped for a large shoe box worth of Christmas gifts for Samaritan Purse’s Operation Christmas Child. It’s very fitting since he used to buy Christmas gifts for kids in need, and it has the added bonus of being fun because my daughter loves shopping. Just like with the other days, we also visit the cemetery and have a meal at his favorite restaurant and then go out for Peachwave.

Those three days have been the worst days for me, but other crummy days have included our wedding anniversary, any big holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas, Valentine’s Day, my birthday, any “parent and child” type event, like a Daddy Daughter Dance. Over time, those days have become less painful and have become more about the traditions we started, but they were particularly bad the first few years.