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Week 133: Grief, Alignment, and the Quiet Power of Memory

Lily’s birthday week always carries a quiet weight. I prepare myself for it each year, but I never know how it will unfold. This year, something unexpected happened: a piece I had written about her—my words, from my heart—was published by The Keepthings during that same week.

I hadn’t timed it. I hadn’t asked for it. But when it happened, it felt like a kind of alignment. As if the universe—or maybe Lily—had arranged for her memory to echo out just when I needed it most.

When Memory Finds Its Moment

I wasn’t planning to share that writing with friends or family. I usually keep that part of myself separate. But this time, it felt right. So, with scared and anxious fingers, I hit “post” on my personal page.

The comments that followed were warm, open, and heart-affirming. Sometimes I forget I’m not the only one who mourns my daughter. Such a small person cast a giant shadow in our town. She truly was unforgettable. This shared remembrance reminded me that grief is not a solitary experience—it’s something many carry, together and quietly.

The Healing Power of Nature and Silence

Amid all of this, my husband and I went camping—off the grid, out of service range, surrounded by nothing but trees, hills, and sky. And it was bliss.

Nature is healing. It can be so quiet, you actually hear the silence. At first, it’s a little eerie. We’re so used to the low hum of modern life that true quiet almost feels loud. But once you settle into it, the stillness feels like medicine.

We hiked, we talked, and we sat in the kind of silence that doesn’t need to be filled. It was the perfect way to end an emotional, beautiful, and surprisingly serendipitous week.

Closing Reflections: Writing as a Path to Healing

I write to remember, to hold on, often to make sense. But sometimes, my words move beyond me. And this time, they returned as a kind of gift—landing in the world just as my heart was breaking open again. On her birthday week. Of all weeks.

If You’re Grieving Too…

Thank you for reading. If you’re remembering someone this week, I’m holding space for you. Feel free to share their name in the comments—or pass this along to someone who might need it.

If my writing resonates with you, I’d be honored to have you subscribe and stay connected.


🌸 

Read the Piece About Lily

If you’d like to read the piece that was published during her birthday week, you can find it here:

👉 The Hands That Still Hold Me on The Keepthings

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