August 30 is National Grief Awareness Day.

Here’s the fine print: the day is an annual event focused on recognizing the different ways people experience grief and loss. In general, the day is meant to encourage open conversations about grief, reduce the stigma surrounding it and offer resources for those who are grieving.

All good. 

However, from someone in the trenches, it comes across as (dare I say) lame.

I get the good intentions. I understand the ideology behind the idea.

It’s just that, those of us who are truly grieving, well… we don’t need a day.

Having a day set aside for something in particular makes it feel like a holiday. Like national hot day (July 16) or donut day (November 5) or chocolate day (July 7) or hangover day (January 1) or fried chicken day (July 6) or world UFO day (July 20) or international pillow fight day (April 24).

Grief doesn’t need to be put in this mix. 

Grief is bigger than a pillow fight or a hot dog or even chocolate.

And it is so, so very much bigger than a day. It wanes in comparison.

But those with good intentions who set days aside for things like hot dogs and dachshunds didn’t want to leave the grief-steeped out. God forbid.

Imagine feeling left out because of your grief. (Insert sarcastic smile here.)

That would be the day, wouldn’t it?

Here’s the truth as I’ve lived it: Those of us experiencing grief don’t need a day.

For us, every day is grief day. Instead of a day, we need you.

We need you not to rescue us, but to be there. Not for just one day, not every day, but maybe just some days. 

We’d love for you to make us a priority once in awhile, because the person or persons who did that are no longer here. The person who used to answer our every text no longer has an active cell phone and in that we are alone with our thoughts.

This might be hard to think about because it isn’t pleasant. I get that.

I understand it’s difficult to be around someone who is in the throes of grief. Imagine what it’s like to walk in their skin.

Yeah. 

I’ve been wading in this water for nearly five years, and I’ve come to terms with my situation. I’ve tried to make the best of it and I think I’ve actually grown in the process. Still, I miss my husband every day. And I am sad and I worry because I know.

I know that so many others will travel this road. So many whom I know and love will follow this path and I don’t want that for them. I survived, but it was damn difficult, and I truly don’t want anyone to go through what I made it through, even though it’s unavoidable.

Because life ends. 

When you get married, the obvious outcome is that one of you will die. No one thinks about that on their wedding day.

So my best advice? If you are married and in love, embrace that. Embrace him, or her. Embrace the relationship and don’t ever let go. Realize we are all living on borrowed time and embrace each day. 

Don’t wait for the cause to celebrate an annual grief day. Create your own “I love you” day and celebrate that. Love now and love hard.

My best advice so far. 

— Jill Pertler’s column Slices of Life appears regularly in the Times. She can be reached at slicescolumn@gmail.com.