Take Time to Remember.

Wholly Cow, it's Tuesday, and yesterday was Memorial Day.

It did not go unnoticed that on the day we’re supposed to remember, I forgot to send out my weekly email.

I’ve been sending weekly updates for over five years, and it’s something I genuinely look forward to every Sunday. So, for me to completely forget to do it is something I needed to take notice of.

I want to take a moment to thank all of our military—active duty and veterans, living and deceased—and to express my gratitude to you or your loved ones for your service. I didn’t choose the military life, and I’m deeply grateful for all the people who have made it possible for us to live lives of freedom and choice. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

With all the choices we have in our modern lifestyle, it’s easy to forget and get distracted. That’s exactly what happened to me this weekend. My entire family took our annual Memorial Day weekend trip to Woodstock, NY. Tracy and I, my mom and dad, and my in-laws—all under one roof. Everyone has different wake/sleep routines, eating schedules, and daily rhythms. So, combining all of that together was definitely a feat.

With all the activity, it’s easy to understand why I forgot to write an email. But it also reminded me of the importance of taking intentional time to remember.

This is what happened with my grief. In the beginning, all I could do was remember. I spent so much time living in the past, thinking of Lauren every single day. (To be honest, when she was alive, I didn’t think about her 24/7—only once in a while.) But only remembering kept me from living in the present and appreciating the life happening all around me.

As time passed and I started moving forward, I became afraid of forgetting—forgetting her laugh, her smell, her face, the stories and memories. But as I began to let go of the pain of my loss, I realized that letting go of the pain didn’t mean I was going to forget her.

If I continued to hold on to the belief that “the pain I feel is the last thing I have of her,” then letting go of the pain would feel like letting go of her. And that’s not true. Letting go of the pain has allowed me to remember all the fun times we shared. It allows me to look at pictures and videos with laughter and joy. It allows me to remember how she lived, not just how she died.

Finding the balance between living in the present and holding space for the past takes practice. It’s not always easy—or comfortable—at first. But with repetition, it gets easier. Like building any skill, it’s awkward before it becomes elegant.

So, try to find that balance. If you tend to get wrapped up in the busyness of life, take some intentional time to slow down and remember. If, on the other hand, you find yourself stuck in the past, take some intentional time to be present and say yes to life.

Whichever side of the seesaw you’re on, step out of your comfort zone, and as Nedra used to say, “Be gentle with yourself.”