37 Ways of Remembering

The night before my daughter would have celebrated her 37th birthday, I wept. Inconsolably. I considered calling someone--my husband, my best friend, my sister, my mother, the woman who lost her child at birth--but I dismissed every one of them. There was no one who could understand the depth of my sadness, and no one I wished to burden with my sorrow. After all, it has been more than a year since she died. Shouldn't I weep more quietly now?

I entertained dark notions, and I went to bed considering the idea that if I died before I woke, I would get to see her. But I was not suicidal, and, as is my practice before sleep, I acknowledged my Higher Power and gave the problem to God.

It was with absolute clarity that I awoke at 2:00 a.m. I had my answer; I knew how I was going to survive her birthday. I was to make a list of ways to remember her and then carry out every item. Should the list be ten, a dozen, twenty? No, it was to be 37 ways to remember Gretchen, an item for every year.

I created the list thinking it was about me and my memories, but a friend who viewed the list noticed it said a lot about Gretchen, a way of getting to know her through my remembrances. And so, my list and the things that happened when I fulfilled the items became her legacy. It became the way she lives on, the way I feel her presence.

There are a number of small miracles and moments of awe that accompany the list fulfillment. There's a story for each one of them, with the central theme being love is greater than loss. If you were a part of one of the stories, thank you for the warmth you showed me on a difficult weekend.

Maybe you have suffered a great loss, too. I offer my stories so that you might know it is possible to live, and thrive, after loss.

37 stories. 37 blog posts. 37 opportunities to heal. Blessed be.