She learned my daughter’s name instead of avoiding it

Dear Delyara, After my daughter died, most people stopped saying her name because they were afraid it would upset me. My closest friend did the opposite. She used it naturally. “Remember when Sophie hated mushrooms?” “Sophie would have laughed at this.” She sent me photographs I had forgotten she possessed and marked my daughter’s birthday in her calendar without turning it into a formal condolence day. At first, hearing the name hurt every time. Then I realized silence hurt more. Last week was the fifth anniversary of Sophie’s death. My friend came over with takeaway and brought a ridiculous purple cake because Sophie once insisted purple icing tasted better. We ate it and told stories until one in the morning. Nobody called the evening healing. Nobody tried to make grief meaningful. My friend simply allowed my daughter to remain part of the language of people who loved her. Gratitude, for me, is having one person who understood that saying Sophie’s name could not remind me she died because I had never once forgotten.