He Wasn't Buying A Drink, He Was Paying Just To Hear Her Name

HE WASN’T BUYING COFFEE.

HE WAS BUYING THE SOUND OF HER NAME.

Yesterday, I read a story about a young man who had lost his girlfriend, Angela.

Every day, he went to Starbucks and ordered a drink using her name.

The barista would write her name on the cup, place it on the counter and, when the drink was ready, call her name aloud.

He did not go because he needed the coffee.

He went because, for one brief moment, someone said her name.

For one second, her name existed outside his memories.

It travelled through the room.

It reached his ears.

And perhaps, before grief reminded him of everything he had lost, it almost felt as though she were still somewhere nearby, waiting to pick up her drink.

That story broke my heart because this is something people do not always understand about grief.

After someone dies, the world slowly stops saying their name.

At first, everyone says it.

Their name fills the funeral home. It is written on flowers, cards and messages. People share photographs and tell stories.

Then the service ends.

The flowers fade.

The cards are placed in a box.

Everyone returns to their lives, and little by little, their name becomes quieter.

People may be afraid to say it because they think it will remind us of our loss.

But we have not forgotten.

We never stop remembering.

Hearing their name does not cause the pain. Their absence causes the pain.

Hearing their name reminds us that they lived.

It reminds us that they were more than the way they died. They laughed, dreamed, annoyed us, loved us and occupied a place in this world that can never be filled by anyone else.

I understand why that young man kept buying those drinks.

Sometimes, you would give anything just to hear someone speak the name you still say silently a hundred times each day.

That is why I will continue to say hers.

McKayla.

McKayla Jean Jones.

Mickey JJ.

Forever 27.

I will write her name.

I will speak her name.

I will put her name on clothing and carry it into places she can no longer go.

And I will say the names of other loved ones too, because no life should become a whisper simply because it ended.

So please, do not be afraid to say their name.

You are not reminding us that they died.

You are reminding us that they lived.

And sometimes, hearing their name is the closest thing we have to hearing them come back into the room.

Say their name.

Not quietly.

Not with shame.

Say it with love.