The Kindness of Sharing Remembrances

"'There is no death, daughter.  People die only when we forget them,' my mother explained shortly before she left me.  'If you can remember me, I will be with you always.'"
― Isabel Allende, Eva Luna
 

As I wrote yesterday, my father's birthday and the anniversary of his passing are one day after the next because he died the day before his 63rd birthday.  I celebrate my father's birthday as well as those of my grandparents because they were -- and continue to be -- important people in my life.  Their birthdays were always significant dates as I was growing up and they still are.  I use those occasions to talk with my children about the people whom I continue to love and who figure so prominently in who I am.  It is important to me to remember them and I am so touched when someone else remembers them, too.  I find connection, comfort and strength in those shared remembrances.  It's as if someone is extending a strong hand to steady me as I continue to navigate the difficult terrain of love and loss.

On Sunday, the anniversary of my father's passing, a friend texted me:  "I am thinking of you.  I know this is a difficult day.  I never met your father, but I am positive a part of him lives on through you."  Her thoughtfulness made me feel better.  I received a couple of other messages on his birthday yesterday -- one from a childhood friend whose father shares my father's birthday.  And another message from the daughter of a friend who died a year ago yesterday.  I couldn't believe that she remembered my father's birthday in the midst of her own sadness.

Over the years, I have been very touched when people share that they remember my loved ones.  The late father of a friend of mine endeared himself forever to me when he mentioned that he had known my father and that he thought I looked like him.  When my grandmother died, another friend wrote to me about the beautiful things she remembered about my grandmother, including her hands...  That e-mail was sent to me more than 14 years ago and the thought of it still warms my heart.  I always smile when I think that this friend took the time to write to me about my grandmother.  (In a lovely coincidence, she shares my grandmother's birthday.)

When someone remembers our loved ones or acknowledges our loss, that kindness touches our hearts in a very special way because it recognizes an important part of who we are that others usually don't see.  It acknowledges that our loved ones, as well as the love we feel for them, do indeed live on in us.