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How will you remember?
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If you know you want to honor your loved one, but your creativity at this juncture is far from optimal, and you want to jump right in today, the ideas presented in THE WAY TO REMEMBER guidebook can help you come up with an idea or two very quickly.
Yes, finally, a guidebook to help you jump start the creative process, so you can get your memorial project started hours from now - while you are in the mood - and start celebrating your loved one with a meaningful tribute that will bring happy tears.
What are you waiting for? Wander over to Amazon and order a copy of this 63-page GUIDEBOOK today!
It looks like the picture to the right->
(Or below if you are on your mobile device.)
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I am looking forward to connecting with you! xo
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my loss
Sample page from guidebook
Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.
~L.M. Montgomery
I remember being a little kid and lying in bed at night wondering what it would mean to lose someone I loved and to never ever ever ever see them again. How could it be that someone could exist one moment and disappear the next? (Clearly, I was having an existential crisis at the tender age of 7.) I couldn’t process what all this meant then, and I can barely understand any of it now.
It’s been five years since I buried my son, and on my best day, I simply put one foot in front of the other, bury my head in denial, and slap on a smile, as my mom taught me to do. Inside, I carry my sad little secret, I am not the same person I was before that sh*tty day in June. I may look like it on the outside, but there is a piece of me that was lost and buried that day as well.
Maybe you know the feeling?
Nothing is ever quite the same after we lose someone we adore, someone we can’t live without.
At first, it feels like the ground is dropping out from under your feet and then it feels that way over and over and over again. I don’t think the empty-hole-in-your-heart feeling ever really ends—you know, that bottomless ungrounded feeling - we simply learn to walk differently so we can stay on some sort of path; an unfamiliar path is better than no path, given we have a life duty to carry on. I mean, we do have to carry on, right?
Read American novelist Anne Lamott’s apt description of loss:
You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken. The bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly - that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.
Of course, our loved ones live forever in our broken hearts, and we learn to dance a new way and hopefully learn to step out of the endlessly looping cycle of angst that becomes our constant state of mind.
Even though we hold onto the memories, sometimes the memories are not enough.
I’ve always thought it was comforting—even necessary—to have something “tangible” to hang onto as well. A way to “fill the gap”, if you will.
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