Aug 13, 2026
There are many terms I have heard when talking about the anniversary of your child's death - Heaven Day. Angelversary. Going Home Day.
But today, Gwen gave us a new one that she found in the book, Rare Bird - Crappiversary.
It made us laugh. And then it made us cry. Because it is exactly right. Some days deserve to be named accurately. Some days do not need to be dressed up or softened or reframed into something more palatable. Some days just need to be what they are.
This week, two of those days fall within three days of each other. August 12th and August 15th - the anniversaries of Caleb's death and Andy's death. And this episode releases on August 13th, right between them.
Gwen asked Chrisy and me what we would write on a t-shirt for the anniversary.
Chrisy said: I'm sad. I can't fix it. So let me be sad.
I said: Today sucks and I need a hug.
We mean it. Not as defeat. Not as a loss of hope. But as a radical act of honesty that this community understands better than anyone.
Because one of the hardest things about the anniversary is the pressure, the pressure to act ok for the people around you, to reassure others that you are fine, to receive platitudes graciously when what you actually need is for someone to just sit with you in it. What helps is not the person who tries to fix it. What helps is the friend who texts to say, I hear Imagine Dragons and I think of your son. What helps is someone who says, today sucks, and I love you. What helps is not being alone in the weight of it.
Grief requires work. Hard, daily, unglamorous work. And it does get more manageable over time, lighter, less sharp. The darkness is not as overwhelming as it once was, and it is easier and easier to find the next small bit of light to walk toward.
But the anniversary is still the crappiversary. And it is okay to say so.
Let me be sad. Just for today. Just for this.