The Art of Acknowledgement

One of my very favorite memories happens to come from a family vacation we took one year before Londyn passed. In July of 2021 Sean and I took the kids to Colorado. We hiked in Aspen, walked the Main Street shops of Breckenridge and even caught a baseball game in Denver. The kids often told us it was one of their all time favorite trips.

   It was during our first evening in Breckenridge that Londyn and I spotted a local art fair. Both being huge art enthusiasts we quickly split from the boys and went on a hunt to uncover the various artistic gems hidden among the many blocked off spaces. Our treasure hunt was rewarded when we came across a display of some beautiful paintings of the ocean. The artist was there and very shyly thanked us for stopping in. It was in that moment I watched in proud amazement and wonder as Londyn opened up a conversation and ever so slowly pulled him out of his shell. She started asking questions. What got you into art? How long have you been practicing? Which one is your favorite piece? Why? And “tell me more about that!” It was a master class in engagement. I stood there, and for the first time ever, saw Londyn, not just as my daughter and little girl, but as someone growing into an amazing and thoughtful young woman. My heart exploded with pride that day.

    As many of you know, Lauren’s family collaborated with ours to have a bench dedicated to the girls in a local park that sits beside a beautiful pond. We took Sean’s mom by to see it over the weekend and it was at that moment another memory resurfaced and I recounted the story to her. This was a couple of months back and the bench had only recently been placed. Being only our second time to stop by we were not confident it would be available and sure enough we found it had already been claimed by a couple of fisherman using the bench to lay their coats and supplies. Careful not to disturb them, we walked by to take in the view and Sean (as he alway does) went around to quickly polish up the plaque placed in its center. One of the fisherman approached us with a big warm smile and asked if we knew the girls named on the plaque? “Why yes we do as a matter of fact, Londyn was our daughter.” Now as you can imagine and as we have often experienced in these situations this is usually followed by an awkward silence as the recipient works to quickly compose a response. It’s usually a brief offering of condolences often followed by an awkward apology. But this time was different. Yes, there was still the brief moment of silence. That pocket in which the brain works hard to comprehend and respond at the same time. But instead of the usual lines we‘ve heard many times now, this gentleman smiled even bigger and said the most beautiful sentence ever , “Well tell me about her!! What was she like?!” It was our turn for once to be taken aback and briefly silenced. But then we did tell him about her and he listened and heard, and for a brief beautiful moment, it was like Londyn was right there with us again.

     The definition of acknowledge is “to accept or admit the existence or truth of.” I have given a lot of thought to that beautiful moment in Colorado. By asking the artist thought provoking questions, Londyn was validating the existence of his skill. She was saying “I really see you and the heart and soul that went into this piece and I want to learn more”. In doing this she brought this shy young man out of his shell and we watched his eyes light up as he explained his technique and love of his craft. In comparison, the fisherman’s response, unflinchingly acknowledging the truth of Londyn’s existence and even the tragedy of her death, was both impactful and comforting all at the same time. This simple act wrapped in such a simple yet bold sentence was such a beautiful gift.

    I’ll be the first to admit, it’s not easy to know how to approach anyone thrust into this world of grief. We too are still learning as we go. But I hope in my own small way, by shedding a light into a room where the door is often closed, I might help others know what to say or do. Am I asking you to mention Londyn every time we meet? Of course not. That would be weird. And I can hear Londyn  saying “Ew mom that’s cringe.” Instead I want to remove the glass from underneath your feet, and should the opportunity arise and you feel compelled, please know sharing your memories of Londyn brings light into our world. To acknowledge the loss of someone’s loved one is not to bring back pain or hurt. In some ways, Londyn is with us now more in death than she ever was in life. She is with us every second of every day and you are not “reminding us of her loss". Instead, to practice the art of acknowledgement is to tell someone grieving “I remember them”. And in doing so our loved ones will continue to live.