I dislike using the word anniversary to describe it. It's been six years since my Mom died. Six years to the day. I won't say that broke me - I think I broke before that, but it certainly didn't help. I suppose I feel lucky in a way. I had injured myself nearly a year previously and was on painkillers for the aftermath of my Mom's death. It didn't make things easier, really, but it bought me some time.
That's all we all have, I suppose. It's something I sometimes have plenty of.