OPEN QUESTIONS // Mind Days
Thanks for reading the second set of OPEN QUESTIONS. I think of these kinds of inquiries primarily as opportunities to ponder. To ask yourself to open up, and let whatever comes in come in. But/and, yes, of course I would love it if you replied in the comments. Let me say that again for the folks in the back: YES OF COURSE I would LOVE it if you replied in the COMMENTS. And/or, if it feels good, take these Qs to your journal or notebook and write until something surprises you. All of the above is great also.
A week ago today marked two years since a dear friend’s mom died. A few weeks before that marked six years since my dad’s death.
And so, after almost a month of holding the word ‘anniversary’ aloft in my body/mind with a kind of sad raised eyebrow, I ran it through the other question portal (Google). Typing, “etymology of anniversary,” the former journalist in me knew my intentions were a type of leading question; I wanted proof that this word couldn’t apply to the sorrow of one occasion and the celebration of another. I wanted search results that said you’re right; it’s not accurate to use the same word for cheers’ing a marriage day or one’s hire date at work, and the passing of a loved one from this mortal coil.
And I kind of got them.
To begin with, all sources are on the same straightforward page: ‘Anniversary’ comes from the Latin anniversarius; ‘returning yearly’1 as in annus ‘year’ and versus ‘turning.’
Additionally, the Online Etymology Dictionary—which, I mean … your history prof probably would’ve not accepted it as one of the five required scholarly references in your term paper—makes further clarification that circa 1200, anniversary was used to note the annual return “especially of the day of a person's death or a saint's martyrdom.”
And get this, that entry also lists this claim as a kind of P.S.: “An Old English word for ‘anniversary’ (n.) was mynddæg, literally ‘mind-day.’“
Feels like a weird win. Maybe ‘anniversary’ is actually most right—most historically accurate—in the context of death. We could, perhaps, rightly call for a grieving people’s referendum sanctioning the word ‘anniversary’ for our loved one’s passings and nothing else.
But we could also move to adopt the usage of a Mind Day for death days, and let lovers and others and ourselves have anniversaries for everything else.
It’s possible I’m the only one who wants or needs to split this particular hair. What’s in a name after all? Well, I’m of many minds on that one. But really, call it what you will and what feels right. I’ll always support you on that.

What do you do to mark the anniversaries of your loved one’s death(s)? What rituals or traditions or small, personal ceremonies have you created, adopted, or followed—and what do those actions mean for you? What are you connecting with, what are you honoring? Is what you do for you, or for them — or maybe some shared energy in between?
What are you not yet doing to honor a death anniversary? Is there something you want to do but haven’t? What’s the unlock; what would help you slide into a place where you’re able to act on the tug you feel inside? If a friend came to you with this quandary, what would you tell them?
Tally up the various anniversaries that you tend to mark or honor over a year. Do the different dates, moods, or efforts share anything in common? What is it that we’re doing when we mark the ‘yearly return’ of anything at all? What do we hope to connect with or feel, and in what ways are we most successful in doing so? Can we learn to more generatively and expansively feel into ourselves and our loved ones by comparing and contrasting, say, a death anniversary with a first date anniversary? And maybe vice-versa?
What do you make of this Mind Day idea? What would it mean for you to honor—on any day, specific to a death or not—the distinct fact of a loved one’s presence in your thoughts? Perhaps meditation would feel all the more appropriate. Perhaps herbs and flower essences for a dream session. What if Mind Day was like, every January 13 or the second Tuesday in August? What if we observed Mind Day as a community, taking the day to be alone, to be together, to walk in nature, to nap by a river. To revel in our minds and the memories there. Is it worth a griever’s referendum?
All personal images have been collaged for this post with photographs sourced from Unsplash and are meant to evoke this idea of a GRIEVER’S BALL, where we do a sort of slow-jam slam-dance under crystal chandeliers or autumn oak tree branches. Where grief is sacred, where both ballgowns and sweatpants are mourning clothes. Where time stops, where everyone listens, where everyone hears, where everyone feels.
Which is where several resources like to point out how erroneous it is to claim, “Today is our sixth month anniversary.” Doesn’t compute! But/and, another several of those resources offer this fix: “Today is our sixth month lunaversary.” ie: Marking the lunar cycle/monthly return. Love it. If we’re gonna up our language precision, let’s up our language precision.