Their birthday does not stop arriving. Whether it is the first one without them or the twentieth, the day asks for something — and cards, cakes and parties don’t fit anymore. A star does: it was fixed by the moment they passed, and it is there on every birthday from now on.
On the day: open the 3D sky of that night and look at the star; light a candle on the memorial page; send the link to family in different cities so everyone is looking at the same star. Some keep it closed all year and only visit on this day — that is exactly what it is for.
If a friend’s mother or partner has a heavenly birthday coming, this is a quiet gift that needs no wrapping: a private link, no pressure to display anything. Send it a few days early — on the day itself, grief rarely has room to receive anything.
Light a candle.
Look up. Say happy birthday.