“Saying their name doesn’t reopen the wound — it keeps love alive.”
There’s a hush that often follows loss.
People stop saying their name. Conversations tiptoe around the absence.
But silence can feel like erasure.
You haven’t forgotten. You never will.
And sometimes, all you want is for someone to say their name out loud.
So say it.
Let it rise in your voice.
Speak it in your home, your prayers, your writing.
Say it to someone who remembers them, or to the sky if no one else will.
Speaking their name is not holding on too tightly — it’s holding with reverence.
You are not preventing healing. You are practicing it.
Let the syllables carry meaning again. Let their name be music, not just memory.
They lived. They mattered. They still do.
Say their name today — not to bring them back, but to bring yourself back to what still connects you.
Close your eyes. Say their name aloud. Once, twice, as many times as you need. Feel how it moves through your chest, your throat, your heart. Rest in the presence it evokes — no need to explain, just feel.
Write their name in your journal, in large letters. Below it, write a memory that still makes you smile. Keep it somewhere visible today — a small altar of remembrance.
Isaac L. “After my partner died, no one said his name anymore. It was like he vanished twice. Then I started saying it again. Out loud. Just to myself. I even say good morning sometimes. And weirdly… it brings peace. He’s not gone. He’s just unseen.”
What is named is remembered. And what is remembered still lives.