Murdock went to heaven in September 2022. Three months later, the calendar changed to 2023. That New Year’s Eve and Day were the most difficult days I had encountered at that point in my grief, and it was totally unexpected.

To be sure, there were many trying days  – the one week mark; the one month mark; his Gotcha Day; Thanksgiving; Christmas – but none of them came close to, or prepared me for, the feelings that took over when the new year was approaching. A new year, in which he would not be physically present in my life.  A new year, when everything I experienced would be without my best friend. The flipping of that calendar page was impossible to bear.

I tried to tell myself that time is just a made up construct so that we humans can keep track of things. I tried to convince myself that whether it was December 31, 2022 or January 1, 2023, my love for Murdock was no different, so my sadness should not be. But I just couldn’t buy it. With the celebrations on TV, the “Happy New Year!” greetings, or consciously remembering to write 2023, there were constant reminders of time marching on. Even when I didn’t want to.

I remember walking around on New Year’s Eve (I went out of town, which I have done frequently in the last 15 months, probably to try to escape life), my heart pleading for time to slow down. Perhaps in my begging, I would fall into some crazy time warp where it would remain 2022 forever – a year that I spent mostly with my boy, no matter how difficult that period was.

We are trained to see a new year as a re-start. A time to begin anew, to make resolutions, to improve ourselves and our lives. And with that, there is anticipation and excitement. We get a do-over every January 1.

But I didn’t want a do-over on January 1, 2023. I wanted to stay back in 2022, close to where Murdock forever remained. 2022 may have turned dark when Murdock went to heaven, but for the first nine months with him, even as we both struggled, I was the me I was happiest as, and living life as I was meant to. 2023 was 365 days without my soulmate. I didn’t want a re-start in the darkness of loss – I wanted to go backwards, where I had last experienced light.

I write this about my experiences last year – but it is no different now, as I face another flip of the calendar to 2024. Only now, I am even further from my times of joy. Yes, I know that he is always with me; yes, I have memories to last a lifetime – but when distance can be measured, it is all the more painful.

If you know someone who lost a love in 2023 (or 2022, or 2021 . . .), reach out to them this New Year’s. We don’t all look forward to the prospect of beginning anew. Some of us just wish that time could stop forever.