01/01/2026
🩶 New Year 🩶
The turning of the calendar often brings hope, plans, and fresh intentions — yet for many of us, it also brings a quiet ache. A reminder of those who should be stepping into this new year with us, but are no longer here in the way we wish they could be.
New Year is often spoken of as a fresh start, a clean page, a time of celebration. But for those who have experienced loss, it can feel heavy. The world seems to move forward, while our hearts are still holding on. And that is okay. There is no right or wrong way to enter a new year when you are grieving.
Today, we pause — not to rush forward, not to forget — but to remember.
We remember the lives that shaped us.
The voices we still hear in quiet moments.
The laughter, the lessons, the love that continues to exist long after a life has ended.
Grief does not end when the year changes. Love does not have an expiry date. And memories do not belong to the past alone — they walk beside us into every tomorrow.
As a funeral director, I have the privilege of walking alongside families at some of the most difficult moments of their lives. I see grief in all its forms — the tears, the silence, the strength people never knew they had. But I also see something else: resilience, love, and the remarkable ability of the human heart to carry loss while still finding ways to hope.
Hope does not mean forgetting.
Hope does not mean “moving on.”
Hope simply means allowing yourself to breathe again, one day at a time.
As we step into this new year, our hopes and dreams may look different now. They may be quieter. They may feel uncertain. But they still matter.
Our hope might be for peace on the hard days.
For comfort in memories rather than pain.
For the strength to keep going when the weight of loss feels heavy.
For moments of laughter that no longer feel like betrayal, but like a gift.
Our dreams may no longer be about grand plans.
They may be about getting through the day.
About finding joy in small things.
About honouring those we have lost by living with kindness, compassion, and love — the very things they gave to us.
Those we remember today are not defined by the moment they left us, but by the lives they lived and the impact they had. Their love continues in the way we speak their names, in the traditions we keep, in the stories we tell, and in the way they shaped who we are.
As this new year unfolds, may we allow ourselves grace.
Grace to grieve.
Grace to heal.
Grace to hope again — gently, in our own time.
May we carry our loved ones forward with us, not as a burden, but as a quiet presence — guiding us, comforting us, reminding us that love never truly leaves.
And as we look ahead, may this year bring moments of light among the shadows, peace alongside the pain, and the reassurance that even in loss, we are never alone.
Thank you for remembering.
Thank you for honouring.
And thank you for allowing hope and love to walk with you into this new year.
Happy New Year
Thank you
Kirsty