Every Single Day I Think About You

On the strange, quiet constancy of grief after a year—and why I think about you every single day.

October 1, 2026 | The Unscripted Femme

It’s been over a year since my brother-in-law passed away. He suffered from cancer for a short few years, but at the same time, it felt like the longest few years of our lives.

For the longest time, I think I expected grief to have a sharper edge—something that would eventually soften into a dull hum, or a memory that only surfaces on birthdays, holidays, or anniversaries. Instead, what catches me off guard is the sheer constancy of it.

I’m still astonished by how I think about him every single day.

Being eight hours away made everything incredibly harder. While my husband drove to visit with him often, I couldn’t make it every time because of my work—something you never really forgive yourself for, I guess, even when you’re caught in the reality of being unable to quit. He passed away in July of 2025.

Now, most of the time, it’s rarely a heavy, dramatic wave. It’s just a quiet blip in the middle of a Tuesday. It’ll happen when I’m chopping onions, or when a song comes on in the car, or when my husband says something with that exact same cadence. My mind just casually loops back to him, as if he’s still right around the corner, just out of sight.

When you lose someone, people talk a lot about moving through the stages, or finding your way back to “normal.” But no one really prepares you for the strange, quiet companionship of ongoing grief—how a person can remain so vividly woven into the daily texture of your life, even when they’re gone. As many writers have noted, grief is often just all the love you want to give, with nowhere to go.

Over the last year, I’ve really discovered how precious life is, and how love is honestly the greatest force of life if you truly find it. While I don’t have kids because of circumstances, I hold my husband tight every single day.

Do you find that grief surprises you with its routine, too? Or is it different for you?

Photos by The Unscripted Femme.